


Because of a Weasley

by aestheticbloodstream



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Hermione Granger, Auror Harry Potter, Cute, Draco Malfoy Speaks French, Draco Malfoy Speaks Spanish, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Good Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, Isolation, M/M, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Older Draco Malfoy, Older Hermione Granger, Parenthood, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Soft Draco Malfoy, Top Draco Malfoy, Wholesome, Work In Progress, draco and hermione - Freeform, dramione - Freeform, hostage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:34:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 78,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29259807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aestheticbloodstream/pseuds/aestheticbloodstream
Summary: "Do you think the dress will look the same with my baby bump?" She questioned, running her hand down the edge of the dress.Draco pressed his lips together, his eyes flicking down to her small and barely noticeable, but ever growing, baby bump."I think it will tie the entire thing together." He replied.DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO J.K. ROWLING, EXCEPT ESTELLE.Art by UPTHEHILLART on Tumblr and InstagramTHIS STORY IS MINE. PLAGIARISM WILL BE REPORTED!
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 44
Kudos: 236
Collections: dramione to read





	1. Chapter 1

January 20th, 2003

Dear Hermione Jean Granger, 

We regret to inform you that, Ronald Billius Weasley has succumbed to his injuries. You will soon receive an owl on funeral plans. We are very sorry for your loss. 

Sincerely, 

Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. 

Hermione's blood went cold. She dropped the letter on the table, shaking uncontrollably, tears streaming down her cheeks.

She wasn't able to see Ron. She had been so busy with working at the Ministry, that the one day she missed seeing Ron, he was gone. 

There were other times she was able to see him, but he was always unconscious and swarmed with nurses and healers. Hermione was only able to see him minutes at a time until the room got so crowded, she was pushed out. 

She couldn't help but feel anger rise from the sadness. Ron, her boyfriend for five years, was gone and all the hospital sent her was a three sentence letter. Did they not realize she had just lost a friend? A lover? They treated this like an everyday thing. Like people just drop like flies everyday. 

Harry and Ginny were silent in shock. Tears rolled down their cheeks, but they didn't utter a word. They didn't have to read the letter to understand what just happened. 

"I have to send a letter to Mum." Ginny whispered, shaking as violently as Hermione was. 

Hermione stared down at the kitchen table, tears blurring her vision. The oak of the table was sturdy, but old, the cracks in it filled with stains from previous owners. 

"I told him to be careful!" Hermione scolded through gritted teeth.

She throw herself down onto the table, her head in her hands and sobbed.

-

January 25th, 2003

"I'm sorry Hermione." Harry whispered tearfully, staring down at Ron's gravestone. 

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Harry. He was your best friend. You and him were closer than me and him could have ever been." Hermione wiped her nose with the sleeve of her worn out hoodie, the one she wore when her and Harry had been hunting horcruxes, the one she wore during the battle, the one she had been wearing when Ron kissed her for the first time.

It still fit. It had been five years since the war, and her hoodie she wore at the age of seventeen, still fit. She almost wanted to throw it out. Throw the memories it held away, forget they even existed. The memories of hunting horcruxes and the war had taken a toll on her.

She looked down at her stomach. She was only two months along. Just thinking about the fact that the baby won't ever know their father made tears well up in her eyes. 

Harry put a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. 

"You can continue to stay with us as long as you need to, Hermione." He said. 

"Thanks, Harry. I just hate having to rely on others. I've already been staying with you and Ginny for a month, ever since Ron had gotten injured. I'd hate to stretch it for longer." She sighed.

"You're mad if you'd think for even a second, I would ever get tired of you. You have been with me since the beginning. If I were ever tired of you, I wouldn't be here." Harry said, looking into her sad eyes. "And Ginny adores you."

Hermione smiled faintly, remembering all the memories her and Harry had at Hogwarts. It seemed like yesterday, but she knew it was far off in the distance. They were no longer children, and they had to realize that.

"It's cold. We should go." Hermione said, pointing her wand to Ron's grave, a wreath of flowers appearing at the foot of the gravestone. "I love you." She whispered. 

Harry looked at her sadly. "He knows. He always has." 

"I know." Her voice broke. 

-

January 30th, 2003

Hermione sat at the table picking at her food. She wasn't hungry. The morning sickness made her lose her appetite, and the loss of Ron didn't help either. 

"You need to eat, Hermione." Ginny said, sitting down next to her. "You need to feed that baby." She pointed down at Hermione's stomach. 

"I just haven't had the strength. Food just doesn't look good anymore." Hermione replied.

Ginny looked at her sadly and sighed. "Is there anything you might have an appetite for?" 

Hermione shook her head, still staring at the food on her plate. It was growing cold. 

"I might eat it later. Please save it. I'm going to take a walk." Said Hermione, pushing the plate aside. 

Harry raised an eyebrow. "It's freezing." 

Hermione grabbed her cloak off of the coat hanger and wrapped it around herself. "I'll be okay." 

"Are you sure you don't want one of us to come with you?" Harry asked as he stood up from the table. 

Hermione turned around, halfway opening the door. "No, I should be back soon." 

"Should? What do you mean by that?" Ginny stood up as well, standing next to Harry. 

Hermione studied them for a long moment. They were a happily married couple. They were together and got to be with each other everyday. Hermione missed that. She missed when her and Ron both came home from work and just wanted to be next to each other. She missed his presence, the feel of him, the smell of cinnamon and spice he always had, and his freckles that dotted his skin. She was mourning Ron, but she couldn't help feel somewhat lucky and relieved that she had a piece of him left. She was having his child. She hoped with her entire heart that the baby would be just like Ron, with her brains of course. 

Is this how Remus and Sirius felt whenever they saw Harry? Did they see James every time Harry was around? Did it give them a sense of comfort that he looked like Their best friend? 

Hermione smiled faintly. "I'll be back." And with that, she walked out into the cold night air. 

-

The cold bit at her face. She could already tell her nose and cheeks were reddened from the dry air. Hermione pulled the cloak tighter around her body, and put the hood up, her bushy hair fighting with her to stay in place. 

She looked down at the pavement, thinking. Thinking about what she'd be doing with Ron right now if he hadn't succumbed to his injuries. Thinking about what baby names he'd come up with, if he preferred a boy over a girl, or vice versa. 

She felt hot tears sting her eyes and run down her cold cheeks. The difference between the hot tears and her cold cheeks burned, but she ignored it. She ignored any physical pain, because all the pain in the world couldn't compare to the mental and emotional pain she was feeling at that very moment. She would miss everything. Ron would miss everything. Ron would never see their baby grow. Ron was gone, and he would miss everything.

As Hermione walked, she realized how quiet the streets were. There wasn't a single person in sight. It was just her, walking silently. She knew she should have felt scared, or suspicious, but if anything were to happen to her, it'd be a blessing, she thought. Maybe if someone killed her, maybe if she did it herself, she could be with Ron. 

She stopped. That was selfish. If she were to end her life, Harry and Ginny would be devastated. The rest of the Weasley's would be devastated. 

"Granger?" A deep voice sounded in Hermione's ears, making her jump. 

She quickly looked around, and saw a tall figure in front of her, their face covered by the shadow the amber street light gave off.

"Depends. Who are you?" She questioned, trying to make herself sound tough and threatening.

The figure stepped forward, the shadow sliding off of them and onto the pavement, their full face now illuminated clearly. 

Hermione stepped back instinctively. She didn't want to be right under the nose of Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked surprised. 

She hadn't seen Draco Malfoy since the battle. It had been five years, and he looked older, but they same has he had always been. He was still pale in complexion, his hair was still a shiny platinum blond, the only slight differences was that he was taller, and more handsome. He had already been good looking, but somehow, some way, he got more attractive. However, he looked tired. The bags under his eyes, plus the dark circles added to his beauty, but gave him a ghostly appearance. 

Hermione studied him intently, taking in all the features that had changed these past five years. She couldn't help but see herself in him. They both looked tired and broken. 

"I haven't seen you in forever, where have you been?" She asked.

"France." Draco answered flatly. "My parents were too worried about being taken to Azkaban, so we fled. It wasn't until a few months ago that they finally would let me come back."

"If you've been back for a few months, how come no one has seen you?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. 

"My house elf usually does everything. And I work from home. When I have to get out of the manor, I usually come at night. Unfortunately, it just so happened you were also out tonight." He responded sharply. "What are you doing walking around in the freezing cold?"

Hermione looked up at him, blinking. 

"Did I stutter?" He raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"N-no! S-sorry." She stammered. "I was just out for fresh air." 

Draco's eyes narrowed curiously, then he chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Hermione's voice turned stern.

Draco's mouth curved into a slight smirk.

"Fresh air, Granger? You're practically breathing in icicles." He replied. 

"I wanted to clear my head. It's been a tough week." Hermione's voice cracked has she tried to withhold a sob. 

Draco's eyebrows furrowed and his eyes widened slightly, a little uncomfortable with the sudden teary Hermione in front of him. 

Hermione looked down at her feet and the pavement. She wasn't really in the mood to have a catch up conversation with Malfoy. Malfoy wasn't even on her list of people to see. He hasn't been in her head since the war, the battle. She just wanted to be left alone. Half of her wanted to go back to Harry and Ginny's, while the other half hoped she'd freeze to death in the cold. 

It was quiet. Her and Draco Malfoy stood in front of each other, both looking down at the icy pavement. They both hoped the other would say something to kill the awkward silence. 

"Well, it was nice talking with you." She muttered, tears falling down her cheeks once again. She turned away and walked hurriedly back the way she came. 

Draco stood there under the amber street lamp, puzzled, but continued walking, thinking about the interaction he just had. He didn't intend to be seen, especially not by Hermione Granger. 

The image of her imprinted in his mind. She looked tired and fragile. She looked as if she hadn't slept in days. Her bushy hair was a frizzy mess, messier than usual, and she was skinnier than she had been in five years.

He didn't know how he felt seeing her like that. He didn't know if he liked seeing her suffer, or if he hated seeing her look so distraught. 

Why would he care now? He didn't care when he became a Death Eater, he didn't care when he called her a mudblood. Why was part of him sympathetic towards her? Or was it just guilt? Maybe it was just guilt. Even if it wasn't, that's what he would tell himself. It was just guilt. Draco Malfoy was known for not having sympathy, and he would keep it that way.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione walked through the door, a rush of warm air kissing her face. It was inviting. 

"Have you worked up an appetite yet?" Ginny asked, walking up to Hermione and grabbing her cloak. 

Hermione felt her stomach rumble. She hadn't noticed how hungry she had been until now. The walk didn't really clear her head, but it definitely helped her feel somewhat hungry. 

"Yeah, a little bit." Hermione muttered. 

"You took longer than we thought you would. We got a little worried." Harry said.

"I ran into someone." She replied. 

Harry and Ginny glanced at each other, then back at Hermione, their eyebrows furrowed almost in worry. 

"Who would be out this late?" Harry questioned.

"Are you hurt?" Ginny added. 

Hermione couldn't help but smile just a little. "I'm fine. It was just Malfoy."

Harry and Ginny's eye widened.

"Malfoy, as in Draco Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"I thought the Malfoys were dead, or took off." Ginny said. 

Hermione nodded. "He's been back for a while. His parents are still away, but he stays at his manor." 

Hermione studied Harry and Ginny. They looked uncomfortable and nervous. 

"He wasn't awful. He was actually pretty polite. I mean, as polite as a Malfoy can be, but he wasn't mean." Hermione stated.

"Wait until I tell the Ministry." Harry smirked. "They'll have a field day knowing there's a Malfoy roaming free."

"Harry, don't. He hasn't done anything to you, or me." Hermione responded. "Don't waste your auror duties on Malfoy."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine, but I swear, if he does anything to you, I'll have Ginny take care of him." 

Ginny's eyebrows jumped to her hairline. "Me?" 

"Yes, you." Harry replied. 

Hermione couldn't help but feel the sadness creep up again. They were so happy, so full of love for each other, and she was alone. 

She didn't have Ron to joke around with. She didn't have Ron to come home to anymore. She was alone. Just her and the baby. With all her heart, she wanted this baby, she loved it already. However, she couldn't help but feel guilty. Guilty that Ron would never be able to see the baby, feel the baby, love the baby. 

He wasn't a ghost, he wasn't able to be resurrected. Ron's death was like Sirius' death. It was done. He can't come back. 

Hermione sat at the kitchen table, nibbling at the warmed up food that Ginny lay in front of her. 

The food was good. Fresh. But she didn't eat it all, it almost felt too good to eat all the food. She wasn't in the right state of mind to reward herself. In fact, she wanted to punish herself. Punish herself for not seeing Ron enough, punish herself with becoming pregnant with a child that will never know their father. 

"I'm heading to bed." Hermione sighed, her food halfway eaten. 

"Okay. Goodnight." Ginny sighed.

"Goodnight." Harry said. 

Hermione pointed her wand at the plate and placed it in the sink and made her way to the spare bedroom. 

She got under the covers slowly, carefully. She didn't have the energy to flop down on the bed, nor did she want to waste any time thinking. She wanted to sleep. Sleep away the day, the interaction with Malfoy, the love and affection Harry and Ginny had for each other, sleep it all away. According to Hermione, sleeping was the closest thing to death, something she so desperately wanted, but knew she couldn't have. 

-

The sunlight pierced through her eyelids, causing Hermione to open her eyes and squint, eyes adjusting to the natural light. 

The small house was empty. Ginny and Harry were at work, leaving Hermione alone. Hermione wanted to go back to work, wanted to distract herself, but getting out of the bed was a chore.

With all her willpower, Hermione rolled out of the small twin bed, her feet touching the chilly tile floor, causing her to shiver slightly.

With her arms crossed tightly to her chest, hoping to preserve some warmth, and stop herself from shivering, she made her way to the kitchen. The morning sunlight created yellow wavelengths across the white walls and tile, a smell of fresh dew coming from the open window that sat above the sink. 

Hermione inhaled deeply. The scent gave her a faint rush of nostalgia. It smelled like a morning at Hogwarts. She wished she was there. She wished she was thirteen again. 

She knew she was twenty two, not yet twenty three, which was young to most, but she felt old. How was she so young, but experiencing so many life events that most people her age haven't even thought about? She had a dead boyfriend, and she was pregnant. 

Most of her former classmates that she kept up with, couldn't even fathom it. They were still out partying, celebrating, making up for the teen years that Voldemort destroyed. 

Hermione, on the other hand, was the opposite. She had always been. She was too uptight, she thought. Too uptight to just relax and party. She had always felt the need to be busy and be overbooked at all times. It distracted her, but now she regretted it. 

Being kept busy all the time took the time she had with Ron away. The fact she felt the need to be overbooked with meetings and hearings instead of being at home, killed her. Why couldn't she just have a normal brain? Why did she have to be so organized, so busy, so distracted? 

The tea kettle burned her hand, startling Hermione from her thoughts. She retracted her hand quickly, waving it in pain. 

"Fuck!" She hissed. 

She looked down at her hand, a faint red mark appearing brighter by the second, decorated the palm. 

"Great." She sighed. "What a lovely start." 

Carefully, she poured the tea into a small, dainty teacup, and blew on the surface, cooling it down. 

The cold kitchen made the steam of the tea rise vividly. It twisted and curled, disappearing in the air. 

Hermione sipped it. It burned her lips and mouth, but she didn't care. What was one more burn injury? 

-

Hermione heard the front door open. She perked up from the bed, but stayed still. She didn't have the strength to get up. 

A faint knock sounded on the other side of her door. 

"Are you still asleep? It's nearly four in the afternoon." Harry's voice sounded, a small smile evident in his voice.

Hermione smiled to herself. She knew Ron was gone, but she had Harry. Harry wasn't going anywhere. 

Hermione got up and opened the door, inviting Harry in. 

"Come in." Uttered Hermione, walking back to her bed. 

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked. 

"Still shitty. I want Ron back." She replied, wrapping the blanket around her. 

Harry looked at her for a moment and sighed. "Me too. However, what I've learned, is that they can't come back. They know we care, Hermione, but they can't come back."

Hermione already knew this. Hermione knew the dead couldn't come back to life, but at least Harry was able to talk to his dead parents, his dead godfather, all of his other dead relatives, but Hermione couldn't. Hermione didn't have whatever Harry had. She wished she did. 

"I know." Hermione's breathed shakily. 

Harry eyed Hermione up and down inquisitively. 

"What?" Her eyebrows furrowed in frustration and irritation. 

"When have you last taken a shower?" Harry asked. 

Hermione didn't answer. She looked away quickly, studying the patterns in the drywall. She honestly didn't know. She didn't realize she skipped showering. She didn't realize she wasn't keeping up with herself. She was so deep in her thoughts and emotions, she forgot the physical world existed sometimes. 

Harry sighed loudly and scratched the back of his head, obviously disappointed. Hermione didn't have to have him say it, she knew what he looked like when he was angry, or disappointed in her. 

"Maybe you'll feel better if you did." Harry suggested. "Ron wouldn't want to see you like this." 

Hermione felt a stab in her chest. Why did he feel the need to bring up Ron right now? He couldn't just bring up Ron just to have her do something. It wasn't fair. However, she knew he was right, Ron would hate seeing her like this. Pathetic, filthy, sad. 

"Who cares? Ron isn't here to see me." She sulked. 

Harry rolled his eyes, leaning in the doorway. "Just go shower. I promise you'll feel better." 

"Fine." She huffed, getting up and bumping Harry as she walked out into the hall. 

She entered the bathroom, and turned on the faucet, letting the water warm. Looking down at the floor, she dropped her clothing, taking each article off slowly, as if she'd hurt herself if she threw them off too fast. 

As she finished taking off everything, she accidentally caught a glimpse of her in the mirror. Her eyes widened. 

She approached her reflection slowly, scared that it might jump out at her, but it didn't. She stared at the glass. She couldn't even recognize herself. Her cheeks were slightly hollowed, her skin, a sickly pale green, she was stick thin, and her bushy brown hair was matted in several places. What really shocked her was her eyes. They were dark, soulless, nothing shined in them. She had always thought her eyes were one of her best features, but now, they looked the worse out of everything. 

The person staring back at her wasn't Hermione Granger. This wasn't who she was, or wanted to be. She was merely a shell. She looked at if the dementors had kissed her. She was living, but soulless, a fate worse than death. 

The reflection was too overwhelming. Hermione broke down and sobbed, her knees giving out, causing her to fall on the cold, hard tile. She was pathetic. Here she was, naked and sobbing uncontrollably on the bathroom floor, how disgusting of her. 

She was a mess. How could she possibly have thought she'd be able to take care of this baby? She looked down at her stomach, it was still flat, no bump yet, it was too early, she knew that, but she already knew how much she loved it. Did she love it enough to bring it into a world where it would see its mom like this? No child deserved a mom who didn't love themselves. No child deserved a broken mother. If she didn't love herself, than how could she love this baby? But didn't she already love it? 

Still sobbing, Hermione got up and stepped into the shower, the sudden warm water causing her to flinch. It felt good. It felt like a warm hug. 

The water ran down her body in streams. It was a much needed comfort. With everything that had gone wrong, the last thing Hermione thought about was herself, her hygiene, her needs. But it felt good, it felt nice to finally do something for herself.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione stepped out of the shower. She felt lighter, cleaner. As much as she felt like shit, she couldn't help but be glad she listened to Harry. The shower really did help.

She dried herself off slowly, staring at her reflection while she did it. She looked better, but the shower didn't help her skin, which was still a sickly pale green, just with blotches of red where the hot water kissed it. Her cheeks were still hollowed and her eyes, still soulless. 

It's not like she expected the shower to magically change her appearance, or did she? She couldn't help being slightly disappointed when she saw herself fresh out of the shower. She still looked the same, just cleaner. She didn't want to look like this. 

Why was Ron's death affecting her this much? It hadn't affected Harry this much, and he was closer to him than she could have ever been. Ginny wasn't acting like this, everyone else wasn't acting like this. Why was she the only one suffering? Why wasn't anyone else looking like this? Acting like this? Did they even love Ron as much as she did? Was it because they weren't having his baby? Was it because they have never felt his skin close to theirs?

Hermione got dressed into some comfortable sweatpants and a long, worn out shirt. She wanted something lose fitting and comfortable. She didn't care about the clothes she was wearing, she knew they weren't fancy. It wasn't like she was going anywhere nice. Who wouldn't wear sweatpants and a t-shirt, if all they were doing was staying inside? At least she showered, that was the best anyone can expect from her.

She opened the door of the bathroom and stepped into the hallway. The difference in temperature shocked her a little. The chilly hallway versus the hot and humid, steam-filled bathroom made goosebumps appear on her skin. 

"You look better." Harry said, coming up the hall. 

Hermione turned to face him.

"Thank you." She replied. "I feel better."

She couldn't help but still wonder why the others weren't mourning like she was. Then again, Ginny had already lost Fred during the war, and Harry had lost too many people to count. Harry was used to this. Harry was used to people leaving him, but how was Ginny okay? She had lost another brother.

Hermione pushed away the thought, too exhausted to even think about it. She was clean, now she just wanted to sleep. 

Suddenly, as Hermione began walking back to her room, she felt dizzy; lightheaded. With the world spinning around her, she collapsed and vomited on the floor, unable to hold herself back. 

She felt warm hands around her, clutching her. 

"Jesus, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, quickly holding her just washed, bushy hair back. 

"Sorry." She wretched, clear vomit spilling onto the floor, due to her lack of eating.

"Hermione, it's fine. Let's get you to bed." He replied, carrying Hermione to her small bed. 

She lifted the covers over herself, hiding herself from Harry, from everyone. She was embarrassed, upset. Everyday, Harry and Ginny had to see her like this. She was a mess. 

"You need to eat. You're practically puking up water." Harry stated. Hermione felt his weight as he sat at the end of the bed. 

Hermione hesitated. She wasn't very in tune with herself, she didn't really know what she wanted, or how exactly she felt. Was she hungry? Even if she didn't feel like it, it was only right to eat because of the baby. 

"Maybe some soup?" Harry suggested. 

"Okay." Was all she could say, her throat sore from the water and stomach acid she just threw up. 

-

The sudden sound of the door opening, caused Hermione to pull down the comforter, peeking to see Harry with a bowl of something that steamed. 

"Here's your soup." He said, approaching her. 

She sat up with her arms out, as Harry handed her the bowl of hot soup. 

She stared at it. It had a lot of vegetables in it, the broth was a dull red, flakes of seasoning sprinkled throughout. 

"What is it?" Hermione asked, looking up at Harry, who stood beside her bed. 

"Garden soup. It's light." Harry smiled. 

"Thank you." Hermione smiled back, grabbing the spoon that sat in the bowl.

She stirred it, hesitant to eat. She honestly didn't understand why she didn't want to eat. First it was because she didn't have an appetite, but now- 

She took a spoonful, blowing the steam that rose out of the broth. 

With great reluctance, she put the spoon in her mouth, swallowing the warm soup.

As it hit her stomach, she realized how hungry she's been. She felt warm. She felt comfortable. 

The first spoonful quickly turned into a second, then a third. She devoured the soup. She was starving. She wanted to eat it all, she needed it. 

Harry watched and smiled as he saw her eat normally for the first time since Ron passed. He was proud. He wanted the Hermione he met at Hogwarts back. He wanted the smart, clever, and happy Hermione back, and this might just be the first steps. 

Hermione finished the soup, wiping the corners of her mouth. "Thank you." She said again, handing Harry the empty bowl. 

She felt full for the first time since Ron died. She felt energized, healthier, better. She didn't realize how empty she really was until she forced herself to eat. She felt so much better. 

Hermione threw the covers off herself and stood up. She wanted to be productive, she wanted to do something. Today was an enormous step for her. She showered, she ate. 

Harry looked down at her, grinning. "I bet the baby appreciated that." 

Hermione looked down at her stomach and placed her hands on it, smiling faintly. "Yeah, I bet."

Just then, Ginny came through the door, leaning against the doorframe. "How's everyone doing?" She asked with a smirk. 

Harry turned to her and kissed her cheek, she giggled. Hermione's smile faded. 

"Hermione showered and ate all her food, so big steps were made." He said.

Hermione stared down at the floor, her eyes clouded with tears, but she tried to make her voice seem normal, amused. "You guys act like I'm a child." She fake laughed. 

She blinked back her tears and glanced up at Harry and Ginny. They raised their eyebrows at her. 

"We know you aren't a child, Hermione. But we still want to celebrate you making progress." Ginny said. 

"You guys act like people close to you die everyday." Hermione said, her voice edging into an angry tone. "Why aren't you like me? You both were close to Ron. Why am I the only one suffering like this?" 

The tears Hermione tried to blink back resurfaced. Unable to keep them from spilling, they ran down her cheeks. She was upset. She was upset that no one was mourning like she was. She was suffering and no one seemed to understand. Why wasn't anyone else hurting? 

Ginny bit her lip and looked away, her eyes watering slightly. Harry's eyebrows furrowed as he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. 

Hermione looked from Ginny to Harry, Harry to Ginny. They didn't say anything for a while. It was silent for what felt like an hour, but was probably a minute or two. 

Harry and Ginny glanced at each other, exchanging looks. Hermione could tell that they were trying to communicate without words, and they were good at it. 

Harry sighed, "If we all mourned like you, nothing would get done. Not everyone is the same Hermione. Some of us mourn internally, some of us are used to death." 

The last words hit Hermione like a ton of bricks. Some of us are used to death. She experienced a lot of death during her time at Hogwarts. Dumbledore, Fred, Lavender, Colin, Snape, Sirius, Remus, Tonks. She knew death, not as much as Harry did, but she was used to it, or at least she thought she was. The question was, if she was used to it like Harry was, why was she struggling both internally and externally?

"Yeah, I understand." Hermione muttered, grabbing her cloak that sat on the floor, next to her bed. 

"Where are you going? It's dark." Ginny put her hand up in front of her, stopping Hermione from getting through the bedroom doorway. 

"I need a walk. I want to clear my head. I'm a grown woman, I do as I please. Step aside Ginny. Please." Hermione's voice was calm, monotone, yet stern.

Hermione saw Ginny glance cautiously at Harry, who shrugged in response. Ginny sighed, moving out of Hermione's way. 

"Thank you." She mumbled, pacing down the hall, and reaching the front door. 

As she opened the front door, chilly air pricked the skin of her face. She stepped out, greeting it. She didn't mind the cold, she hated the heat. She wasn't very cold. Her sweatpants and cloak really helped keep her warm. 

She walked along the pavement, studying the cracks, and the overgrowth from the weeds that were stubborn enough to grow between them. She had no destination in mind, she just wanted to walk until she was exhausted enough to fall into bed when she got back to Harry and Ginny's house. 

The cold air seemed to clear her mind, it made her feel okay. Not happy, but okay. This was as good as she was going to feel for a while, she thought. 

She looked up at the sky, the stars twinkled brightly, the moon was a full sphere. 

"I wonder if there are werewolves out tonight." She said to herself. She snorted, and kept walking, her eyes focused on the distance. She stopped.

A figure stood still in the distance. They weren't under a street light, so all Hermione saw was their outline, a shadow. She raised an eyebrow, curious as to who would be out here right now. She knew it wasn't Malfoy. He wouldn't be standing still when he had errands to run. 

She crossed the street, walking along side the pavement opposite of the figure. She continued walking, memories of Ron clouding her head. 

Just then, she heard footsteps, loud footsteps. She looked up quickly, the figure was running. It was running towards her. 

It was a woman. She was dirty, skinny, and scary looking. Her long black hair flying behind her as she ran. From the distance, Hermione could see that the woman had a mouth full of sharp teeth. Was it a vampire? 

Hermione was scared, but she didn't want to run, it would be a lost cause. She couldn't out run this creature. 

Hermione felt around her waistband, her hand landing on her wand, but she didn't want to wake the neighborhood up using spells. What if this creature had a wand too? She didn't want to duel. 

Without thinking, Hermione apparated. She didn't have a destination, she just hoped to get away. She just wanted to be as far away from that creature as possible. 

As she apparated, she felt a sharp pain somewhere on her body, she couldn't tell where, she was already suffocating, stretching herself as far as she could go. All she knew was she hurt, bad. 

She felt herself hit solid ground. She glanced up at the sky, her breathing turning into heaving. Her surroundings became cloudy as everything slowly went black.


	4. Chapter 4

February 2nd, 2003

Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She was sore. She hurt everywhere. Her vision was still blurry, but she could make out a small chandelier that hung from the ceiling. 

Unable to move without a sharp pain etching through her body, she carefully and slowly moved her head to look around. She was laying down on a soft bed. It was big, a king size, maybe. The covers were a velvet fabric, dark emerald green in color. Besides the immense pain she was in, the bed was quite comfortable. 

The room was big. It had marble floor, and bright white walls with sliver trim. She felt small in this room. She felt like the room itself could just swallow her. 

She was in too much pain to wonder where she was at. She was somewhere fancy, she knew that. How did she even get here? Where exactly was she? 

"Rise and shine Granger." A familiar deep voice sounded in the quiet room. 

Hermione blinked, her vision focusing as she saw Draco Malfoy standing comfortably in the doorway, a small cup full of amber colored liquid in his hand. 

He was nicely dressed. He was in a dark green turtle neck that was tucked into some black khaki pants. The sleeves of his shirt had been rolled up halfway up his arms, the cuffs stopping at his elbow. His pale blond hair was messy. It seemed as though maybe he didn't quite get to finish combing his hair. 

Hermione panicked. Where exactly was she? Why was Draco Malfoy here?

She tried to sit up, wincing and hissing at the pain. She managed to sit up enough to where she could see the entire room. 

"What are you doing here? Where am I?" She asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

Draco eyed her, his eyes studying her for a moment, then raised an eyebrow, a look of disdain on his face.

"First of all Granger, I live here. Second of all, do you want the full story, or just the tidbits?" He sipped the liquid in his cup, pursing his lips as he swallowed. 

Hermione looked at him and blinked. What full story? What exactly happened for her to be in immense pain at the Malfoy Manor? 

Draco snapped his fingers, causing Hermione to snap out of her head, her thoughts. 

"Do you have ears? Because obviously you don't seem to be listening." He snarled. 

"S-sorry, I'd like the full story." She stammered. 

Draco sipped the amber colored liquid again and leaned against the doorway. 

"Listen Granger, because I won't be repeating myself." His eyes flickered from the cup he held, to her eyes, she blinked and looked away, embarrassed. 

"When I woke up this morning, and opened my curtains, you were sprawled out in front of my gates. You were covered in blood and unconscious. For a moment, I thought you were dead. I sent my house elf to get you, and she brought you in. It looks like you apparated here, because you're splinched. You have a gash on your cheek and a chunk missing from you thigh." Draco nodded towards her, and pointed to her legs. 

Hermione felt her cheek and winced. It hurt. She peeked under the covers and caught sight of her right thigh that had been bandaged, blood seeping through.

She had never splinched herself this bad before. She was always pretty good at apparating. 

The events of last night flooded her memory. The creature. The woman. Did she splinch herself because she was in a hurry? 

"You lost a lot of blood. I'm surprised you're still alive. You stained my walkway with it, so thanks for that." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

"When I learn how to not bleed out, I'll make sure not to stain your property, Malfoy." Hermione said sarcastically. 

"That would be ideal." He replied, sipping his cup once again. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. She didn't want to stay here. Why did Malfoy even take her in in the first place? Why would he save a "mudblood" like her? 

"You could've just left me there. I don't understand why you decided to take me in." She pulled a loose string that stuck out from the hemline of the comforter. 

Draco looked at her like she was stupid. He looked at her like she was Crabbe, or Goyle. She didn't like that look. It made her feel stupid. 

"Do you know how bad it would've looked for people to see a bloody, unconscious muggleborn in front of a former Death Eater's property?" He snorted. "For the brightest witch of your age, you sure are an idiot." 

Muggleborn? She had never heard those words come form Draco's lips. It was always, mudblood this, mudblood that, what changed?

Hermione shook her head, she didn't care what Malfoy had to say at this point, she wanted to leave. She wasn't going to sit there, defenseless, while Malfoy talked down to her. 

Hermione winced again as she used her arms to lift herself off the bed. 

"And where do you think you're going?" Draco approached her, pushing her back down on the bed. He had barely touched her. She was weak.

Hermione struggled to sit up again, her body aching. 

"I believe I have overstayed my welcome." She replied coldly.

"You aren't leaving anytime soon." He said, backing away, and setting the almost empty cup on the dresser next to the bed. 

"Excuse me? I will not be held hostage here!" Hermione hissed. 

"Hostage? You think I want to keep you here?" Draco snorted, his eyebrows furrowed.

Hermione glared at him. She was frustrated and in pain, she was definitely not in the mood for Draco Malfoy's snarky comments. 

"Then let me leave." 

"I can't do that." 

"And why not?" Hermione crossed her arms, still glaring at Malfoy. 

"You look awful. Do you really think I'm just going to let you go back to Potter's house when you look like you've been attacked by a werewolf? Knowing that you have an inability to keep your mouth shut, I'm pretty sure Harry and the others know I'm back. If I let you go back looking like this," Draco pointed at Hermione's wounds. "Then I'll be their first target. And as you know, I'm trying to stay out of Azkaban." 

Hermione was quiet, she didn't know what to say. It was weird that Draco was even helping her. Five years ago, he would've left her for dead and celebrated. What changed? 

"I don't want to stay." Hermione mumbled. 

"Too bad. I don't want you to either, but it's for the both of us." He shrugged. 

"Harry and the others will get suspicious if I'm gone for too long." Hermione said. 

"That's taken care of." 

"How?"

"My elf sent a letter. As far as they know, you're with your parents." Draco smirked. 

Hermione sighed, she was stuck. There was no way to get out of this.

Thinking about ways to escape, she looked down at her stomach, remembering she was pregnant. She had forgotten, the pain distracted her from it.

"Is the baby okay?" She panicked. 

Draco's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Baby?"

She nodded. "I'm pregnant." 

"And it's Weasley's?" 

Hermione nodded again.

Draco scoffed. "Just what we needed, another Weasley. They breed like rabbits. I wouldn't be surprised if they took over the wizarding world if they kept it up." 

Hermione felt tears creep up in her eyes. 

"This baby is the only thing I have left of Ron." She breathed, trying to not let her tears fall. 

"Oh, I forgot, he's dead." Draco mumbled. 

"Yeah, he is." Hermione wiped her eyes. 

"Pregnant and widowed, Hermione Granger." Draco sneered. "What a shame." 

Hermione could feel anger bubble through the sadness she was feeling. Why was Malfoy acting like this? When they met a few days ago, he was decent, polite. Now he's the same selfish and arrogant asshole she had known at Hogwarts. 

"Fuck you Malfoy." Hermione pushed herself off the bed with her arms. 

A sharp pain shot through her thigh, causing her to collapse on the floor. Draco stood in front of her, towering over her, staring down at her. She felt small, helpless; like a child.

The chilly air pricked at her skin, making her just now notice that she was only in her bra and underwear. 

She flushed scarlet, wrapping her arms around herself, hoping to cover any bare skin she could.

"Pathetic." Draco snorted. "Get up." 

"I can't." Hermione breathed. "It hurts." 

Draco scoffed and picked her up, gently laying her back on the bed. 

She felt his hands on her rib cage, they were big, cold.

"Don't make me do that again." He said, his pale skin a slight shade of pink, barely noticeable. 

"Where are my clothes?" She pulled the covers over her, shivering from the chilly room. 

"They were covered in blood. I wasn't going to allow you in my house with those rags on. You'd stain my marble floor." He answered, annoyed. "That's also why I came here." 

He threw a big t shirt at Hermione, it landed on her face. 

"It's only a temporary measure. I'll send my elf to get you clothes after she's done fixing my walkway." He added. 

She held it up. It was big, worn out. It was a plain black shirt, white trim along the sleeves. She threw it over herself. She felt warmer, less exposed. 

"Thank you." She mumbled.

"Yeah, yeah." Draco waved his hand dismissively as he grabbed the cup off of the dresser, and sipped it. 

"Is that...fire whiskey?" Hermione asked, eyeing down what was left of the amber liquid. 

Draco's eyebrows jumped as he nodded. 

"Do you want some?" He looked down at the liquid, swirling the cup with his hand.

"I can't. I'm pregnant, remember?" She pointed at her stomach. 

"You're missing out." He replied, downing the last of what was left of the whiskey. 

"Does it burn?" She blinked at him. He drank it like water. It was eight in the morning. 

He grimaced as he swallowed. "Like hell." He croaked.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione stared at him. He looked tired, the dark circles around his eyes were more abundant now than they had been when she had seen him underneath the amber street lights. She could see he was struggling. With what, she wasn't sure. 

Draco ignored her stares. He looked straight across the room, staring at the wall behind her.

"Feel free to roam around. This manor is big enough to where you won't have to see me much. Don't try to escape either. I have enchantments set around the manor. All exits are set to burn you as soon as you touch the doorknob, so don't even try." His eyes trailed down the wall and focused disdainfully on Hermione's face. 

Hermione smirked to herself. She couldn't even stand, let alone walk, how the hell was she going to try to escape, or roam the manor? Injured like this, she was pretty useless. 

"Can I at least have my wand?" She asked, knowing what the answer was going to be as soon as she saw Draco's eyebrows raise. 

"You didn't have your wand on you, Granger." He replied. "And I'm not stupid. I would trust Potter with my possessions more than I'd trust you with a wand." 

Hermione's last hope diminished. She was definitely stuck here. She had nothing. Her wand was her last resort, and that had been taken away from her. How had her life changed so drastically in less than twenty four hours?

She sighed heavily, leaning against the fluffy pillows that sat upright behind her.

"The elf's name is Blimbey. If you need her, call her." Draco looked at Hermione one last time, before turning around and walking down the hall.

Hermione heard his shoes tap the marble floor as he walked down the staircase, his footsteps getting quieter and quieter.

She laid back, staring up at the ceiling, studying the crystal chandelier. It was nice; too nice. For a place that had been abandoned for five years, it was in pretty good shape, but then again, magic is one hell of a tool. 

She still couldn't fathom why she was here. The Malfoy Manor was the last place she would've thought to apparate to. She didn't want to stay here with Draco Malfoy. What if he was keeping her here for something else? What if keeping her here was part of a bigger plan? 

She felt nauseous, but she couldn't tell if it was because of the morning sickness, or anxiety spike. Her mind raced with thoughts that seemed unreasonable, but not impossible. What if she was here as a sacrifice? What if this was a frequent place for former Death Eaters to keep muggleborns? She was tortured here once, what if she would be again? 

The ceiling she stared at began shifting, twisting as her vision became unfocused and blurry. Her nausea soon turned to burning in her throat. She shifted herself, hoping she was facing the floor, and vomited. Her throat burned with every wretch, her eyes watering, still unable to focus. 

She couldn't hold her balance on the bed as she painfully puked on the floor, causing her to pathetically fall, her knees hitting the marble hard. She winced, her injuries feeling the force of her fall.

She knew she was loud, but she couldn't help it. With this pregnancy and her current situation, she was surprised she hadn't puked earlier. She was just glad Draco wasn't seeing her, seeing her so grotesque and disgusting.

After a few minutes, the sickness subsided. Hermione stared at her mess, tears streaming down her cheeks. She felt absolutely and utterly pitiable, pathetic, tragic, ugly. 

She sobbed, wiping the corners of her mouth and pushing back her bushy hair. It stuck to her cheeks, the tears acting like glue.

"Are you done?" 

Hermione's heart dropped. Draco Malfoy stood in the exact same spot he had earlier, looking down, disgusted at Hermione. 

"I-I" she swallowed, her throat aching. "I was going to call the elf, you didn't have to come."

That was a lie. She didn't want to make the elf do more than what Malfoy had ordered her to. Even though S.P.E.W hadn't been active for years, Hermione still considered herself a loyal member of her organization. She still wanted to advocate for house elf rights; she hated seeing these poor creatures slave themselves to death. Especially for Draco Malfoy.

Draco clenched his jaw and ran his hand through his hair. "I'd rather you vomit on the bed instead. That's easier to replace." 

Hermione bit her lip in frustration, glancing down at her mess, then back up at Malfoy. "Marble is easy to clean. Not everything has to be replaced. I can clean it up." 

She struggled to stand, eventually giving up and sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed. 

"You obviously can't be trusted alone, Granger." Draco said. 

"Yes I can. It was just morning sickness." Hermione grabbed a strand of her hair, it was covered in vomit. She grimaced and wiped it. Gross. 

"Morning sickness?" Draco raised an eyebrow, unamused, with his usual disdainful look. 

Hermione nodded. "Happens every morning."

"Lovely." He rolled his eyes.

"I can't control it, Malfoy. I'm sorry." Hermione didn't want to argue. Her stomach ached painfully, and she felt dirty; gross. She just wanted to change, then hide away, pretend she didn't exist. 

"Blimbey!" Draco called, his head peeking out into the hall. 

After a second or two, the elf appeared with a loud, crack! 

"Yes, master?" She replied. 

The elf was to Draco's knees, hunched a little. She wore a clean, white pillow case, and looked to be well taken care of. Hermione couldn't help but think about the difference in treatment between Dobby and this elf. The Malfoys had treated Dobby awfully, but it seemed as though Draco actually took the time to care for this one. 

"Clean this up for me." He ordered. "Ms. Granger is a complete mess, I'm sorry I had to order you for something like this." Draco's eyes looked up from the elf and glared at Hermione. 

She looked away, embarrassed and angry. She wasn't a child, and Malfoy was treating her like one, treating her like a dog who pissed on the carpet. She felt inhuman. She had barely been here for a day and already felt like a complete and utter burden to herself. She knew she was a burden to Malfoy, so why keep her here? 

"Can I shower?" She looked from the wall next to her and glanced at Draco's turtleneck, avoiding his pale eyes that always seemed to look straight through her. She hated it. 

"If you can get there." He replied, licking and pursing his lips, trying not to smile. He found this amusing. 

Hermione knew he was getting pleasure and amusement from her suffering. She knew he found all of this funny, like Saturday entertainment. He liked to watch her struggle, he liked to see her helpless, seeing little Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, struggle like a helpless child. 

"Please help me, Malfoy." She wiped her eyes before the tears could fall on her cheeks.

Draco snorted, then coughed, covering it up. He was amused, and Hermione was exhausted. She just wanted to get what she needed to get done, but having to rely on someone else who was totally unreliable and evil hindered it. 

"Please." She begged softly, knowing how pathetic she sounded, but she no longer wanted to sit in her own vomit.

"The bathroom is a door down to your right. Have fun." With that, Draco walked away, his footsteps getting quieter as he went back down the stairs. 

Hermione banged a fist on the marble floor. "Malfoy!" She screamed. 

The elf, Blimbey had cleaned the floor as soon as Hermione started crawling to the bedroom door, her head peeking out into the hall. 

"Malfoy!" She yelled. 

Nothing. 

She turned to the little elf, who was happily scrubbing the last of the vomit, and sighed. She didn't want to ask the elf. Asking the elf was contributing to its slavery, she thought. However, Hermione wanted to shower. She wanted to get clean. Sitting here in her own filth was getting to be too much for her. She hadn't felt this dirty since the war. 

Hermione cleared her throat, "Blimbey..." 

The elf turned to her, its big brown, tennis ball eyes on her. 

"Could you help me to the shower please?" She asked shyly. 

The elf smiled and nodded quickly, running to Hermione and helping her up, supporting her as they walked. 

The hall was marble flooring as well, a green carpet runner down the middle added to the decor. She glanced over the banister, but wasn't able to see much downstairs.

Hermione leaned against the bathroom wall as the elf started the bath water. Hermione saw the steam rise as the tub filled. 

"It's ready for you ma'am." Blimbey squeaked. 

Hermione smiled kindly, "thank you, Blimbey, but please, call me Hermione." 

The elf smiled and nodded, leading Hermione to the bath and helped her in, apparrating out as soon as Hermione sat down in the tub. 

The warm bath relaxed her muscles. She felt comfortable, clean. She wished she was able to shower, but that proved impossible considering the fact she could barely stand. 

She looked at her reflection in the water. She looked just as she had when she looked in the mirror at Harry's house, except, she had a big gash across her left cheek, right under her eye. She thought of Remus. Would it scar? She was disappointed again. Every time she looked at herself, there was always hope that she'd look like her old self again, her healthy self. 

She leaned back in the tub and stared at the faucet. She wouldn't be here if Ron was here. She missed him. She missed his freckles that peppered his body, his ginger complexion, his fiery orange hair, the way he would smile when they saw each other every night after work. 

This baby was going to be without a father. She knew that, she didn't want that, but at the same time, she knew this baby would be the only piece left she had of Ron. Another Weasley. Hermione looked down at her still flat, small stomach and smiled. She hoped with all her heart, whether boy, or girl, that the baby resembled a Weasley more than a Granger. 

Her heart dropped. She hadn't told anyone else about her pregnancy except Harry, Ginny and Draco. Had Ginny already told the other Weasley's? Did they know they were going to have a grandchild? 

Hermione looked at the water, it was turning a shade of pink from her wounds. She looked at her injured thigh, the first time she was able to get a good look at it. It looked like she had been stabbed, there was a gaping hold the size of bottle cap in her thigh. It hurt. She winced just looking at it. 

Why didn't Draco just repair it with magic? We're wizards. He probably wasn't any good. If She just had her wand, she could've tried to start the healing process faster.

She sighed and dipped her head into the water, cleaning the vomit out of her hair. However, she couldn't shake the thought that maybe, if she stayed under long enough, she could drown herself.


	6. Chapter 6

The water started getting cold, signaling Hermione that it was time to get out. 

"Bli-"

The door opened before Hermione could finish, she quickly covered herself with her hands, ducking deeper into the bathtub. 

A towel was thrown on her, the hemline of it touched the water; soaking it.

Hermione quickly wrapped it around herself and lifted herself on the edge of the tub. The soaked part of the towel stuck to her uninjured thigh. 

"You really should've knocked." Hermione scowled. "I don't appreciate being walked in on."

"My house. I do what I want." Draco Malfoy replied. 

"You can't just barge in here! I was naked!" Hermione explained. 

"Oh please." He rolled his eyes. "I didn't see a thing. Not that I'd want to anyways." 

Hermione glared at him, he stared back with an almost amused, yet expressionless face. 

"I would rather have had the elf help me." She mumbled. 

"Yeah well, she's busy. And since I can't leave you alone without you somehow making a mess, you're coming downstairs." 

Hermione looked up at him, confused and scared. The way he said it made her sound like some kind of animal. 

"Why? I'd much rather stay up here." She panicked quietly, trying not to show it in her voice. 

"Granger..." Draco rubbed his temples, annoyance laced in his voice. "I already told you why. If you listened the first time, I wouldn't have to repeat myself." 

"I'm fine up here." She stated, crossing her arms. "You really think I want to be near you? You left me to crawl here. If it wasn't for Bilmbey, I would've gotten hurt even more." 

"Good." He smirked, picking at a piece of chipping paint in the doorway. 

"Fuck you." Hermione mumbled. 

"Yeah, well, get dressed." Draco flicked the chip of paint towards Hermione, it landed on her foot, the water acting like glue. She flicked it off.

"With what clothes, Malfoy?" She looked down at the towel, picking at loose strings, trying to avoid his face.

"The elf is out right now getting you clothing, until then, you can wear my mother's old clothes. I don't want you puking on mine anymore." He scoffed, throwing a yellow dress at her. It was long and airy, trimmed with lace around the sleeves and the neckline. 

"What is this?" She looked at it, pinching the lace between her fingertips.

"My mother's old nightgown. Put it on." He replied. 

Hermione looked up from the nightgown, glaring at Malfoy. He studied his wrist watch, adjusting the band around his wrist.

Hermione sat on the edge of the tub awkwardly. Why was he still here? She was not about to get dressed in front of him. She'd rather break her other leg before she showed herself to Malfoy.

"Are you leaving? I need to get dressed." She sighed. 

"Hurry up." Draco replied in a level voice, closing the door. 

Hermione breathed a relieved sigh, and relaxed. She hadn't noticed how tense she was while Malfoy was in here. 

Still sitting on the edge of the tub, Hermione unwrapped the towel from around her body, drying the parts of her body she wasn't able to when Draco had been in the bathroom, invading her privacy. 

Once dried off, she slipped the light, lacey nightgown over herself. She hated wearing dresses when there wasn't any special occasion. She hated dresses in general. She just wanted her sweatpants back. It was almost noon, and she was wearing a nightgown. Did he seriously not have anything else for her to wear? She just wanted shorts, pants, anything but a stupid dress. 

"Are you done?" Draco's voice sounded from the other side of the door, irritation laced in his voice. 

"Yes." Hermione replied. 

Draco opened the door, and looked straight faced at Hermione. 

"It fits you better than it did my mother. I believe she's only worn that ugly thing once." He said. 

"Whatever." She scoffed. "I want to go back to bed." 

"I've already told you, you're coming downstairs, idiot." 

Idiot. She hated being called anything that insulted her intellect. And Draco knew it had an effect on her every time it came out of his mouth. 

"No I'm not." 

"You don't have a choice."

"And how am I going to get there? I can't walk!" Hermione exasperated. "I'll wait for the house elf."

Draco rolled his eyes, and before Hermione could realize what was happening, she was grabbed tightly by the waist. He lifted her up with ease and stood her next to him, supporting her. 

"Let me go!" She struggled to escape when she finally realized Draco had her tightly in his grasp.

He said nothing, walking down the hall and the stairs, finally throwing her onto the fancy green sofa that sat in the middle of the enormous sitting room. 

She winced, her injured thigh hitting the corner of the sofa as she was thrown. 

"Don't touch me again." Hermione scolded. 

Draco sneered. "Then listen next time." 

Hermione scoffed at him, and looked away, studying her new surroundings. 

Another chandelier hung from the ceiling, but it was bigger, fancier. The light that emitted from it hit the crystals that hung from each little branch, making tiny rainbows around the room and the marble floor, adding a nice touch of much needed color.

The walls had big windows that took up most of the room. The curtains were open, letting the natural sunshine peer in. The view was nice, hedges and rose bushes were all lined in a neat row outside. The roses were all white. 

Hermione thought of it strange to just have white roses, but then again, this was the Malfoy Manor, when have they ever been very vibrant?

Draco sat all the way across the room, in a black, oversized armchair. Hermione was a little bit relieved that Malfoy would be a little ways away from her. Even though she didn't want to be around the git, it was a nice change of scenery.

She studied him. He sat in the chair, legs crossed, writing in a notebook he had in his lap. She noticed he had wire rimmed rectangular glasses on his face, which he pushed up as they slid down the bridge of his nose. He looked sophisticated; smart, richer than usual. 

"I didn't know you wore glasses, Malfoy." She said before she could stop herself. 

Draco looked up from writing, his pale, grey eyes peering over his glasses as they slid down the bridge of his nose again, but this time, he didn't push them up, he took them off, and looked disdainfully at Hermione. 

"They're reading glasses. I've needed them since I was eleven, but refused because I didn't want to resemble Potter in any way." He replied.

"Oh. Do they help?" She asked. 

Why was she even trying to talk to him? Malfoy was obviously annoyed, and she was adding to it. Maybe she just hated the silence, yeah, she hated the silence. That's why. 

Draco's eyebrows furrowed in a suspicious manner. "They do, now be quiet Granger, before you get on my nerves." 

Hermione sighed quietly, looking around again, spotting different things she hadn't seen when she first looked around. She started to silently play games with herself, trying to find items of certain colors, or shapes. 

When boredom finally set in, she cleared her throat quietly, but hoped to get Malfoy's attention. 

He still sat in the chair, writing away, ignoring Hermione. She knew he could hear her, this sitting room was practically an auditorium, everything echoed.

Finally, she decided to speak, swallowing her nerves. "Um...Malfoy?"

"What now?" He scoffed. 

Hermione could feel her nerves taking over, as she started to shake. Why was she so panicky? Why was she so nervous to ask Malfoy anything? 

She cleared her throat, and took a deep breath, hoping that would calm herself down.

"D-Do you have any books I can read?" She stammered. 

"If it will shut you up." He said. 

"You brought me down here, I didn't ask to be down here." Hermione replied. 

Draco ignored her and grabbed his wand, giving it a small wave. "Accio, book." 

Suddenly, a book from what seemingly looked like nowhere, flew into Hermione's lap. A book named, Quidditch Throughout the Ages stared back at her. She couldn't help but let out a small sigh of disappointment. Quidditch had never grabbed her interest. She found it to be just a worthless sport. However, she thought it was better than something she had already read. 

She opened the book and started reading, the boredom lifting a little. 

-

Before she knew it, the sun started setting, the golden rays of light turning the sitting room into a slight shade of orange. 

With a loud, crack, the elf, Blimbey, appeared in front of her, causing Hermione to jump a little, Draco glanced up, unfazed. 

"Your clothes are in your room miss." The elf smiled. 

Hermione smiled back. "Thank you, um, I'm a bit hungry, would you mind cooking me something?" 

Hermione forgot she hadn't eaten anything all day, and her stomach wouldn't let her ignore it anymore. 

Blimbey smiled and made her way to a door, which Hermione assumed lead to the kitchen.

"You waited until the elf came back to ask for food?" Draco's eyebrows raised. 

"I wasn't going to have you make me anything, you'd probably lace it with something." Hermione remarked. 

Draco rolled his eyes and went back to reading over his notes.

"Asshole." She whispered under her breath.

Soon enough, Blimbey came in with a plate of food. 

"Here you are, miss." She set the plate in Hermione's lap and bowed. 

Hermione looked down at the full plate. It looked to be steak and potatoes. It smelled amazing. 

"Thank you, Blimbey." Hermione grinned, excited to finally eat something. 

The elf smiled, then apparated loudly. 

Hermione grabbed the fork that sat on top of the potatoes and ate. It was delightful. She hadn't had anything since she was at Harry's and this was the exact thing she seemed to crave. 

"Jesus, Granger, slow down before you choke." Draco scolded. "If you die, I'd have to clean the mess, and I would like to avoid that."

Hermione ignored him, too focused on fueling herself with steak and potatoes.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione woke up, squinting as the bright sunshine lit the room. She was in the same emerald green bed she had first woken up in. She looked around, confused. She didn't remember falling asleep here, or on the sofa. She didn't remember even coming up here. How did she get to the bedroom? When did she even fall asleep?

It was peaceful; quiet. The sunshine gave her a sense of happiness, an omen of relaxation.

She stayed in the bed, too tired to try to get up, not that she was able to, but she liked having her own space. As much as she hated being here, it was much nicer than the tiny spare bedroom she had at Harry's house. 

She looked around and spotted a plate of food on the dresser next to the bed. It was eggs and sausage. She felt her stomach rumble, the smell was intoxicating. 

She grabbed the plate, and ate. She was grateful the elf left it for her, because she didn't want to ask for too much. 

She finished eating and set the empty plate back onto the dresser. She felt better. Even though she was still in pain from being splinched, a full stomach distracted her from it. 

She laid back onto the bed, her head lay in the fluffy pillows; she was comfortable. 

"Good morning, Granger."

Draco's voice caused Hermione to sit up quickly. She winced a little, forgetting she was injured. 

She looked at him as he stood in the doorway, his pale, blond hair was neatly combed and gelled back, a few free strands hung in front of his forehead. He wore a white dress shirt, with a black tie and another pair of black khakis, a belt with a snake buckle wrapped around them. She looked closely at his hands, noticing one of them was holding a few vials of different colored liquids. 

"Morning." She mumbled. "Why are you here?" 

He rolled his eyes, looking at her with his usual disdainful look.

"Potions." He answered. "For your morning sickness and your wounds." 

"I'm not taking them." Hermione said firmly.

"You don't have a choice." He shrugged. 

"I'd rather suffer than take anything from you, Malfoy." Hermione glared up at him, ignoring her slightly shaking body. 

"Please." He snorted. "If I were to poison you, I would've done it by now." 

"I'm not taking it." Hermione stated, continuing to glare up at Malfoy. 

"You. Don't. Have. A. Choice." Draco replied, enunciating every word. 

Before she could reply, Draco approached her and grabbed one of her ankles. She tried to pull herself from his grasp, but was unsuccessful.

Unable to kick due to her injuries, Draco seized his chance and placed one of his knees over both of her legs, pinning them. 

"Get off of me!" She exclaimed, hitting him with her free arms. 

With his free hand, Draco grabbed both of her wrists, pinning them above her head, leaving her helpless; still. 

"You're going to take the damn potions, Granger. I will not have you making anymore messes in my house." He growled. 

Hermione spat at him. He barely flinched. 

In the split second Draco let go of Hermione's wrist to wipe the spit off his cheek, she slapped one of the vials out of his hand, causing it to shatter on the floor, broken glass surrounding the puddle of purple liquid that had once been contained. 

"You stupid bitch." Draco said in a threatening calm voice, his jaw clenched. 

Before Hermione could say anything, he grabbed a fistful of her bushy hair, dragging her off the bed. She flailed helplessly, trying to pull his hand from her hair. 

"You're hurting me!" She yelled, trying to grab hold of his wrist. 

Draco stopped dragging her when they reached the puddle of the potion. Hermione was careful not to get close to the glass shards. 

Still holding her by her hair, Draco knelt down, meeting Hermione's face with his, she looked away. 

"You're going to lick it up." He commanded.

"Like hell I am." Hermione snapped. 

Draco's jaw clenched once again, his grip tightening in Hermione's mane. 

Without warning, he pushed her head down on the floor, meeting the puddle of potion face first.

"Lick it up!" He yelled, pushing her face down harder.

"No!" Hermione sobbed. "Stop!"

Draco yanked her hair, causing Hermione to wince and lift her head. Draco's face was close to hers. She could smell fire whiskey on his breath. How could he drink this early in the morning? 

Draco grabbed Hermione's throat with his other hand, but didn't squeeze. She was confused. 

"Blimbey!" Draco yelled. Hermione flinched. 

The elf appeared with a crack, making Hermione flinch again. 

"Yes master?" The elf squeaked. 

Draco glared at Hermione, a look that could kill. She was surprised she wasn't dead. He narrowed his eyes at her, then looked up at the elf. 

"Could you grab me another vial of that potion?" He asked the elf kindly; sickly kind. "Miss Granger, here, likes to play games." He added through clenched teeth and yanked Hermione's hair once again, causing her to whimper in pain.

"Yes master!" She exclaimed, disappearing. 

"I'm not taking it!" Hermione screamed, trying to pry his hand away from her throat. 

"Yes, you are! Stop fighting me on this, Granger!" He screamed back, his grip on her neck tightened securely.

The elf quickly appeared again, handing Draco the same vial of purple potion, then disappeared again. 

His hand trailed from her throat and up to her jaw, holding it firmly, causing her mouth to open slightly. 

"You don't have a choice on this, Granger." He breathed. 

He put the cork top of the vial in his mouth, pulling it out with his teeth, and spitting it across the room. 

Hermione struggled to move her head—he held it tighter.

Draco forced the vial into her slightly open mouth, she could feel the potion prickle her lips. 

She held it in her mouth, refusing to swallow it. 

"Swallow it." Draco growled, his nose almost touching hers. 

She shook her head, Draco tightened his grip on her jaw once more.

"Swallow. It." He enunciated sternly. 

Hermione glared at him; unmoving. 

Draco slapped her across the face, making her whimper. "Swallow it! Are you too stupid to even do that?!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, swallowing reluctantly. She felt it prickle down her throat, she coughed. 

Draco grinned and let go of her face. "Good girl." 

"Don't call me that." She snapped. 

"You're so dramatic, and we aren't even finished." Draco rolled his eyes.

Hermione felt her heart skip a beat, her palms becoming clammy. 

"What do you mean?" She squeaked. 

Draco sneered. "That was just for the morning sickness. We still have one more to put on your wounds."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him as he smirked. 

"Now, are we going to have to go through the same thing for this one, or are you going to take it like good girl?" 

Hermione sighed and looked away. 

"I'll take that as defeat." Draco snorted. 

He grabbed her injured leg and unwrapped the bandage. 

"It's gonna burn like hell, don't say I didn't warn you." He said. 

Draco opened the vial and poured it on Hermione's thigh. She hissed as it burned her wound. The excruciating pain caused Hermione to grab Draco's shoulder, her nails digging into him.

"Fuck Granger!" Draco hissed. 

"Sorry..." She breathed, the pain starting to subside. 

Hermione let go quickly, placing her hands flat on the floor, her body shaking violently. 

Draco looked at his shoulder. He was bleeding.

"You really had to make sure I wore white, didn't you?" He growled. 

Hermione looked straight ahead at the wall behind the bed, avoiding him. 

"Blimbey!" Draco called again.

"Yes Master Malfoy?" The elf trotted in. 

"Can you get me another shirt? Preferably something black." He replied. 

"Of course!" The elf exclaimed, running out of the room. 

Hermione looked up as Draco's eyes narrowed at her. 

"Sorry." She mumbled again. 

He sighed and rolled his eyes, undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, showing his muscles. 

Hermione glanced at his bare chest and looked away quickly, her face growing hot. 

The elf then ran in, handing Draco a black turtleneck. 

"Thank you." He sighed. 

The elf nodded and ran out. 

He pulled the turtleneck over himself, rolling the long sleeves up to his elbows. 

He smirked down mockingly at Hermione. 

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione was silent. 

Draco knelt back down to her level and wiped the tears from her eyes. 

"Pathetic." He smirked. 

"Fuck off, Malfoy." Hermione croaked. 

"That seems to be your favorite phrase, Granger. I would hope that being the brightest witch of your age, you had expanded your vocabulary." He stood up and stared down at the mess on the floor; the spilled potion was traveling and expanding, creating a bigger puddle.

Draco called the elf once again, she ran in quickly. 

"Clean this mess for me please, Blimbey. And show Miss Granger where you put her new clothes." 

The elf nodded quickly and began cleaning the floor. Hermione watched the elf happily scrub the messy floor. She glanced over at Malfoy who had been standing in the doorway, looking at her. She rolled her eyes and ignored him. 

She looked down at her thigh, expecting to see the same gaping hole in it, but was surprised when she saw that it had healed a little. It wasn't bleeding anymore, and it wasn't as deep as it had been just a few minutes ago. 

She tried to get up, using her hands to do most of the work, and was surprised that she could now stand. It still hurt, but it was manageable. She tried to walk back to the bed, but collapsed. She still wasn't able to walk, but standing was a good start. 

Once the elf finished, she supported Hermione to the dresser that sat next to the bed. 

"Your clothes are in here, Miss." the elf said, opening one of the bottom drawers. It was filled with pants, shorts and skirts. 

"Thank you." Hermione smiled. She couldn't wait to put on something that wasn't a dress. 

The elf grinned, then apparated away, causing Hermione to flinch again at the loud crack! 

Using the bed and dresser for support, she quickly looked through all the clothes. There was everything from sweatpants, to fancy formal wear. Hermione gawked at everything. Even the sweatpants looked expensive. 

Draco cleared his throat. Hermione jumped, forgetting he was in the doorway still. 

"Malfoy, I don't need all of these." She said. 

"I told the elf to get whatever she felt you needed." Draco shrugged. "I have money to spend, Granger." 

Hermione felt her face grow hot, she knew she had turned pink, but why? 

"Thank you." She mumbled. The was the first time Draco and Hermione had somewhat gotten along since she first came. She hated him, but she thought being nice would get her out of here faster. 

She continued looking through the drawers and stopped when she saw a pair of black, lacy knickers that were connected to a black bra by thin strips of lace and a garter belt. 

She snapped her head at Malfoy, who was now sipping fire whiskey from a glass.

"What the hell is this?" She snapped, holding up the lingerie. 

Draco looked at her, then the lingerie and shrugged. "Clothing." 

"Clothing?" Hermione raised a suspicious eyebrow. 

"Nightwear? Fuck if I know, Granger." Draco scoffed. "Like I said, I told the elf to get you what she felt like you needed. Did you need an extra pair of fancy knickers?" 

Hermione glared at him. 

"It must be for you, because it's definitely not mine." Hermione said. 

"Oh please. It's not my size." Draco smirked. 

"I'm throwing it out. It serves me no use." She scoffed. 

Draco approached her, snatching the lingerie from her grasp. 

"I'll throw it out. Merlin knows how pathetic you look when you try to walk." He scowled.

"Saves me a trip." Hermione sighed. 

Draco left the room, Hermione could hear his footsteps grow further away. 

Taking this opportunity, she quickly undressed out of the yellow nightgown Draco had given her yesterday, and threw on a pair of baggy sweatpants and a button up white t shirt. She didn't look the best, but she was comfortable, and that was all that mattered to her.

Draco returned, sitting on the edge of the bed. Hermione grabbed onto the dresser tightly, making sure she wouldn't fall, and stared at him. 

"What do you want?" She snapped. 

His eyes trailed down her curiously and raised an eyebrow.

"Sweatpants, Granger? Out of all the clothing, you choose sweatpants?" 

Hermione groaned and rolled her eyes. "Go ahead, insult me some more, we both know that's what you love to do." 

He had gotten on her last nerve. She was tired of constantly being assaulted by Draco. If she was to be staying here any longer without killing him, she needed to stand up for herself. 

"I wouldn't have to if your weren't so pathetic." Draco smirked. 

Hermione's grip on the dresser made her knuckles turn white. How long was she going to just let Draco Malfoy abuse her? How long was she going to let him get away with it?

"I hate you, and I hate being here." Hermione said calmly. 

"Looks like we have something in common." Draco replied, taking a swig from his cup. 

Hermione glanced at the half empty cup. She had barely seen Malfoy without a glass of fire whiskey in his hands. It was the only thing she had seen him drink. If she didn't know any better, she would think the stupid glass was stuck to him. 

"How many glasses of that have you had?" She raised a curious eyebrow. 

Draco looked up at her, his eyebrows furrowed. 

"How about you mind your business?" 

"You came in here. I have the right to ask questions." 

Draco sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"Enough to make me tipsy, why?" 

"It's barely noon!" Hermione exclaimed. "How the hell are you even able to drink so early?" 

Draco laughed and twirled the glass in his hands. "Trauma." 

"That's not funny." She glared at him.

"Wasn't meant to be." Draco downed the last of the fire whiskey in the glass. 

"That's not good for you." 

"It might not be, but damn, does it do the job." 

Hermione smiled to herself. How was he insulting her, when he was just as bad? He relied on alcohol, and he bullied her for relying on others. He looked just as pathetic as she did. A picture perfect boy with a not so picture perfect life. It was tragic, pitiful. Did he think he was fooling anyone into believing he wasn't broken? That he wasn't hurting? 

"You call me pathetic?" Hermione smirked. "I didn't think I'd see the day a Malfoy looked just as pathetic as me." 

"And what's that supposed to mean, Granger?" Draco's smirk faded, his expression becoming a dangerously calm, yet angry one. 

"You love calling me pathetic, Malfoy, but look at you!" She laughed. "You're drowning yourself in booze! That's pathetic!" 

"I call you pathetic, because a muggleborn witch like you can't function properly without someone having to take care of you!" Draco stood up, towering over her. 

"Muggleborn?" Hermione snorted. "Why don't you call me what you really want to call me, Malfoy?" 

Draco glared at her.

Hermione smiled tauntingly. "Call me a mudblood, Malfoy! That's what you have been wanting to call me this entire time I have been here!" 

"I'm not going—"

"Call me it!" Hermione yelled, tears pricking her eyes. "Call me a mudblood!" 

"Granger, I—"

"Call me it!" Hermione screamed, pushing Draco as hard as she could, causing him almost lose his balance and fall. 

"Hermione!" Draco grabbed her hands and pushed her against the dresser, his hands pinned on each side of her body. 

They stared at each other, their faces only centimeters apart. 

"Did you just—"

He had used her first name. She had never heard it come from his mouth before. She was stunned. As much as she didn't want to admit it to herself, she liked how it sounded from his lips. 

"Let me talk, Granger." He said calmly. 

She looked at his lips. They looked soft; smooth, then up to his eyes, his pale grey pupils bore into hers.

"Malfoy...you're drunk." She sighed. 

"Let me talk." He repeated, Hermione could smell the familiar scent of fire whiskey on his breath. 

"No, Malfoy." She said, pushing him away. "I won't listen to anything you say until you're sober."

Draco looked at her, his expression softening. 

"You don't know what happened in France, Granger. Sometimes, people change." 

Hermione kept looking at him as she maneuvered herself from the dresser to sitting back on the bed, the pain of her injured leg starting to become too much. 

"Malfoy, wait until you're sober. I don't want to hear what you have to say right now. You might regret what you say or do when you sober up, and I don't want to be blamed for it." 

Draco held Hermione's gaze. She studied his grey eyes. They looked sad and full of regret. 

"I'm sorry." He said.


	9. Chapter 9

"Malfoy, get out. Please." Hermione breathed.

"Granger..." He trailed off. He was good at faking sober. He wasn't slurring, or unbalanced, but tipsy was definitely an understatement. 

"Blimbey!" Hermione called. 

The small elf peeked her head inside the room. 

"Yes, Miss?" She squeaked. 

"Can you take Malfoy downstairs and get him something to sober him up? He needs it." Hermione replied. 

"Yes!" The elf exclaimed, dragging Malfoy out into the hall and down the stairs. 

Hermione sighed. She just wanted to be alone. It wasn't until Malfoy had left the room, that she began to replay the events that had just happened. Draco had used her first name, and was the closest he had ever been to her. To be honest, she thought he would have kissed her if she hadn't pushed him away. But the idea of kissing him didn't disgust her. In fact, she wouldn't have minded if he kissed her. She thought about his soft lips and the fire whiskey on his breath she had smelled when their noses were touching. 

She gasped to herself. What was happening to her? She hated Draco, and he hated her. She wanted to keep it that way. There was absolutely no way she was starting to catch feelings for a former Death Eater; someone who wanted her dead since second year. 

Hermione bit her bottom lip hard in thought. What would Ron think? Ron hated Malfoy with his entire being, if Hermione started liking Draco, she wouldn't be surprised if Ron rose from the dead and slapped some sense into her. 

Tears pricked her eyes. She wanted Ron. She wouldn't be in this mess if Ron was careful. They could've been picking out baby names, or talk about how their child would thrive at Hogwarts. She missed him. She had nothing of Ron's, except the baby. This baby was what kept her going. Without this piece she had left of Ron, she was convinced she would've killed herself weeks ago.

Hermione turned towards the big window that took up most of the wall opposite of where her bed was. It was cloudy outside now. The white roses blended in with the grey sky. 

She grabbed the book, Quidditch Throughout the Ages, that had sat on her dresser, and began rereading it. This was the only book she had and it was the only thing she had to pass time. 

-

Hermione heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She sighed. 

It had been a few hours since she had seen Draco, the most peaceful hours she's had since she's been here, and she wanted it to last. 

Draco Malfoy knocked on the already opened door to the bedroom. He sipped from a coffee mug, Hermione could see the steam coming off of the liquid that was contained in it. 

"The door is already open. You've never knocked before." Hermione said, pretending to still read her book. 

"I wanted to apologize." He replied. Hermione could sense a hint of annoyance in his voice. 

"You already said you were sorry. But I don't know what you're sorry for. You didn't do anything. If anything, I should say sorry. I shouldn't have pressured you into calling me a mudblood." 

Hermione saw Draco cringe when she said that word. 

"What is with you and that word, Malfoy? It used to be your favorite." She rolled her eyes.

Draco sighed and walked in, sitting on the edge of the bed. Hermione backed further away, her head and back against the wall.

"I'm not going to touch you, Granger." 

"I don't care. I don't want to be near you." 

"Nobody does." He breathed and sipped the hot liquid from the mug again. 

"Is that coffee?" She asked, trying to change the gloomy atmosphere. 

Draco glanced at her. "Yeah." 

"I had always thought you were more of a tea drinker." She replied. 

"It tastes too earthy. Reminds me of dirt." 

"Oh." Hermione looked away, silently counting the crystals on the chandelier, hoping it would distract her from the awkward silence that had fell between the two of them. 

"I may have been a little tipsy—"

"You were drunk, Malfoy. Tipsy is not the right word for whatever the hell you were." Hermione snapped. 

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, praying for patience.

"Don't interrupt me, Granger. For once in your life, could you listen to me?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed suspiciously at him. "Depends." 

He rolled his eyes and continued. "I may have been drunk, Granger, but I do remember everything I did and said." 

"I don't doubt it." Hermione played with the hemline of her shirt. 

Another silence fell between them. Hermione's head raced with thoughts. Was Draco really evil? Is it all a façade? He seemed regretful, but Hermione didn't know why. What did he do that he regretted? 

"Why won't you call me a mudblood, Malfoy?" She bit her lip nervously. She didn't even know why she asked him that, but she wanted the silence to end. 

"It's just not a word I like." He shrugged. 

"Bullshit." Hermione snorted. 

Draco looked at her. His eyes scanned her face. 

"I'm serious. I've learned a lot while I was in France. People change, Granger." 

"A Malfoy never changes." She objected. 

"Well, this Malfoy has. Whether you want to acknowledge it, or not." Draco laughed. 

Hermione glared at him. His eyes trailed from hers, down to her stomach. 

"How's the baby?" He asked. 

Hermione was caught of guard. She instinctively put her hands over her stomach, protecting it. 

"Why do you care?" She snapped. 

"When was the last time you were examined?" 

Hermione stared at him. 

"Examined? What do you mean?" 

Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

"When's the last time you had someone look at you and the weasel?" 

"This baby isn't a weasel!" Hermione scolded. 

"Weasley, weasel, what's the difference?" Draco drank from the mug again, unfazed.

Hermione scoffed and looked out the window. It was dark. She thought about what he had said. Ever since she found out she was pregnant, she hadn't gone to anyone. Was the baby okay? Maybe she'd know the gender soon. She couldn't help but mentally beat herself up for not going to someone. How could she have been so stupid? Then again, with Ron's death and being held hostage at the Malfoy Manor, she really hadn't thought about going to a healer. 

"I haven't." She muttered. 

"Hm?" Draco turned to her, their eyes meeting. 

"I haven't gone to anyone." She stated. 

Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"How far along are you?" 

"Almost three months." 

"And you haven't been checked?" Draco raised a curious eyebrow. 

"It hadn't crossed my mind. As you know, I've been dealing with you and trying not to go mad inside this stupid house!" 

Draco set down his coffee cup, and stood up, stretching. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down at Hermione, his jaw clenched.

"Get up." He commanded sternly. 

Hermione blinked at him. 

"Why?" Her eyebrows jumped to her hairline. 

"We're going out." He replied.


	10. Chapter 10

"What?" Hermione whispered, shock taking over. Was she about to leave? Get away?

"We're going somewhere." Draco replied.

She looked at the window again. Raindrops sprinkled the glass. It was raining.

"Right this minute?" She asked. "It's dark, and rainy."

"I'm glad you have eyes, Granger." Draco replied.

Hermione scoffed. "I'm not going out there."

"But you were so adamant to get out a few days ago." Draco smirked.

"Not at night."

"And why's that?"

Hermione bit her lip. Draco didn't know the whole story of how she got herself in this situation. Should she tell him? What good would it do if he knew?

She didn't want to go out in the dark. What if she saw the creature again? What if she had to apparate again and ended up hurting herself more? She didn't want to have to stay with Malfoy longer than she needed to.

Hermione breathed in deeply, trying to gather up the courage to tell him how she ended up here in the first place.

"When I was staying at Harry's, I would take night walks."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"

Hermione sighed and ran a hand through her messy hair. "I'm not finished!"

"Go on then."

Hermione glared at him and continued, "well, that one night, I was walking and encountered something. I think it was a vampire, but I didn't want to find out. It was a woman and she was coming after me, I apparated without fully knowing where I was going, and ended up here."

"And?"

"And that's why I don't want to go outside at night. What if I see the same woman? What if we encounter another one of whatever she was?"

Draco studied Hermione for a second before saying anything.

"Granger, if anything like that were to happen, you'll be fine."

"How do you know, Malfoy?" Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Because I'd kill them. I've done it before, it wouldn't hurt to do it again. Might make my day a little more eventful." He rolled his eyes.

Hermione was quiet, looking up at Draco, puzzled. Was Draco really willing to kill for her? But he didn't care about her...did he? They had both agreed they hated each other, and wanted to keep it that way. However, would Draco protect Hermione? She was nothing, according to him. She hated being around him more than a few minutes. He always have something to say and it would always get on her nerves. So why was he willing to keep her alive?

"Granger, I know I'm good looking, but please refrain from gawking that long."

Hermione shook herself from her thoughts and looked at him disdainfully. "You're an idiot."

"Takes one to know one." He shrugged. "Anyways, get ready, we're leaving in a few minutes."

"I don't want to."

"How many times do I have to tell you that you have no choice?" Draco groaned.

"I don't trust you. Knowing you, you'll probably throw me to the wolves!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Believe me, if I could, I would." Draco snorted.

"And how are we supposed to get there? I can't apparate, and I can barely walk!" Hermione was frustrated and exhausted. It was late, and she just wanted to lay in bed and listen to the rain, not go out in it.

"That's why I'm here, Granger." Draco said.

"That's comforting." Hermione replied sarcastically.

"Just get up." Draco grabbed Hermione's cloak that hung on the door and threw it at her.

"Malfoy, I don't want to!" Hermione pulled the cloak from her face and threw it onto the bed.

"I won't let you get hurt. Merlin knows I can't handle anymore of you if you get injured further." Draco facepalmed, frustrated. "The sooner we get you to a healer, the sooner we can find out when you can leave."

Hermione considered what Draco had said for a moment. "The sooner we get you to a healer, the sooner we can find out when you can leave." She liked it. She wanted it. She wanted to get out of this place as fast as she possibly could, and maybe if she just listened to Malfoy about this, it could speed up the process.

She sighed and swallowed her pride. Just suck it up and listen to him. You can do it. Only for tonight.

She grabbed her cloak and wrapped it around herself and glanced at Draco. He furrowed his eyebrows in response.

"Can you please help me up?" Hermione snapped.

"Sure." Draco pursed his lips, trying not to smile. It was amusing seeing someone so head strong, so vulnerable and needy.

He grabbed her wrist and lifted her off the bed, guiding her out into the hall and down the stairs, and into the sitting room, in front of the front door.

Draco grabbed his cloak off of the coat rack that stood next to the front door and wrapped it around himself.

Eager to get going, Hermione touched the doorknob, and quickly pulled back as it burned her skin. She had forgotten about the enchantments. She hissed in pain.

"That was a stupid thing to do for someone so smart." Draco remarked, a slight smirk on his face.

"Let's go." Hermione mumbled, holding her injured hand.

Draco obliged and opened the door, a wave of fresh, earthy rain kissed Hermione's nostrils. She inhaled, it smelled lovely, almost nostalgic.

They stepped outside, it was cold. The raindrops hit their cloaks loudly and pricked their faces.

Draco lead Hermione out of the gates and onto the street. They began walking, Draco still supporting her.

After a few minutes, Hermione glanced up at Draco. "Who is this healer?"

"A family friend. She's one of the only people who know I'm back." He replied.

"A family friend?" Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, thinking. A friend of Malfoy's couldn't be anything good. "Does she share the same values as your family?"

"No. I wouldn't take you to her if she did. She's pretty cut off from the rest of the wizarding world. She only knows mostly pure bloods, but she doesn't mind muggleborns." He replied.

Just then, a loud crack of thunder erupted, causing Hermione to clutch onto Draco tightly. He stopped abruptly, the single amber street light only illuminating them.

  


"Granger?" He looked over his shoulder as she looked up at him. She didn't care that she held onto him. She was scared and for some odd reason, she felt safe around him.

"How long until we get there? I don't want to be out in the open for too long." Hermione whispered.

"She's just up the street." He replied, grabbing her hands that were tightly wrapped around his waist and prying them off of him. "And with a grip like that, I'm surprised I'm not dead, Granger. Be careful."

"Sorry." Hermione mumbled.

With the help of Draco, Hermione limped up the street along side him. Soon enough they came to a hill with a tiny, little circular house that sat on top. It was almost like a little cottage.

"What if we wake her up?" Hermione questioned nervously.

"We won't. This is practically early for her." Draco answered.

They walked up to the door. It was rotting. The wood was wet from the rain and falling apart with the slightest touch. Draco knocked gently, trying not to break the already deteriorating door.

After a few seconds, a little old woman answered. She looked kind and gentle. She gave Hermione a warm smile; one that reminded her of her grandmother.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy!" She exclaimed, waddling up to him and hugging him.

He glanced sideways at Hermione, awkwardly hugging the old woman back. Hermione tried not to laugh. She liked seeing Draco uncomfortable.

"What brings you here at this time? And you've brought a friend!" She shook Hermione's hand.

"Yes, I did." Draco glanced back down at Hermione and cleared his throat. "Ms. Frium, you know I haven't been able to show myself in daylight yet, so I had to come now. My friend..." Draco's face cringed as he struggled to say that word. "Miss Granger here, needs an examination. She's become pregnant, and hasn't been checked since she's found out."

Ms. Frium's eyes widened. "Oh dear! Come inside!" She ushered both Draco and Hermione in quickly, shutting the fragile door behind them. "You shouldn't have brought a pregnant woman out in the rain! She could get sick!" She pointed a stubby finger at Draco, who looked down at her. He towered over her.

"Ms. Frium, it was urgent." He responded.

"I bet it was. It's about time you've decided to have an heir to the Malfoy estate." She sighed.

Hermione and Draco's eyes widened, they glanced at each other and quickly looked away, both turning shades of scarlet.

"It's not mine." Draco cleared his throat.

"Oh?" Ms. Frium turned to Hermione, a curious eyebrow raised.

Hermione looked down at her feet, embarrassed. This woman probably thought Hermione was a harlot. She probably thought Hermione was with Draco and wasn't faithful.

"She isn't with me." Draco muttered. "I'm just taking care of her."

"You're doing a lousy job of it." Hermione breathed.

Draco elbowed her in the ribs. She winced.

"Ah, and you came here because you want me to check on the baby?"

"Precisely." Draco nodded.

"Okay. Miss Granger, go ahead and lie down on that sofa over there."

The healer pointed to a quilted blue sofa. It looked old and was patched up in several places. Just wanting to get it done, she obeyed and laid down on the sofa. It was surprisingly comfortable.

Ms. Frium approached her and grabbed her wand off the end table next to the couch. Draco stayed back by the door, fumbling with his wand.

Hermione watched as the healer casted an unknown charm over her stomach, a yellow light illuminated the room, showing a little tiny human-like alien. It was floating.

Tears formed in Hermione's eyes as she looked at it. This was real. She was going to be a mother and this was Ron's baby, a piece from him.

"You look to be about ten weeks along, congrats." She smiled.

"I figured." Hermione blinked back her tears.

"And I'm actually able to tell you what it is this early if you'd like. Wizard pregnancies are a little more complex than muggle ones, but they are usually easier to detect and handle."

Hermione looked at Draco, who quickly looked away and scratched the back of his head. Did she want to know the gender? It would open a whole new world for her. She could think of baby names and decorations while she was at the Manor. It would distract her. It could make the time pass by quicker.

"What is it?" Hermione cleared her throat, her voice came out shakily.

"A girl." Ms. Frium replied.

Hermione's breathing hitched. She was having a girl. A little baby girl Weasley. She couldn't wait for Harry and Ginny to know that another girl would be added to the Weasley family, that is, if Draco let her go. She needed to heal faster, get better quicker.

Ms. Frium's eyebrows furrowed as she examined the fetus. "She looks a little small for this week mark...have you been taking care of yourself?"

Hermione blushed and bit her lip. Of course she wasn't. She kept forgetting she was pregnant and didn't take into account how the baby would thrive while Hermione was practically harming herself.

"Not as well as I should." She whispered.

"Well, if you put some meat on those bones, the baby should be able to catch up." She turned to Draco, who was tapping his wand against his leg and looking around. "Draco! I thought you said you were taking care of her? This poor girl is practically skin and bones!"

Draco jumped a little, his eyebrows jumping to his hairline. "She's stubborn. I've tried to take care of her, but she doesn't want my help."

Hermione lifted herself with her elbows and glared at Draco. "I don't trust you. You tackled me because I wouldn't drink a potion you gave me."

The healer's eyes widened. "Is that true? You tackled a pregnant woman, Malfoy?"

"Oh please. She's had worse." Draco rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand.

Ms. Frium sighed and turned back to Hermione, retracting the charm. "The baby's healthy dear. Just please, try to take care of yourself." She glanced at Draco then leaned down to Hermione's ear. "Give Draco a chance. He's changed and I bet he's trying."

Hermione stared at her, confused. Trust Draco Malfoy? How the hell was she going to do that? And how the hell has he changed?


	11. Chapter 11

"Thank you, Ms. Frium. We should get going." Draco said, glancing at Hermione. 

She sat up from the sofa and looked at Malfoy for help. 

He rolled his eyes in response and approached her, helping her up. 

Ms. Frium motioned Draco to bend down to her level and whispered in his ear, "Draco, she will need support. This baby is powerful. I wouldn't be surprised if this pregnancy gets harder to handle as time goes on. You need to help her out." 

Draco cringed and pulled away from her. "The elf will take care of her. She should be okay."

The healer sighed and nodded, watching Draco and Hermione leave. 

The Manor was warm. It was nice. Hermione took off her cloak and shivered. She was soaked. 

"Do you need a towel?" Draco asked, drying his hair off with a green hand towel. 

"No, I'll be fine. I'm just going to change my clothes." Hermione replied. 

"Suit yourself." He shrugged. "Are you hungry?"

Hermione gazed up at him, confused. 

"It's late. Even if I'm hungry, I don't mind waiting until morning." 

"You should eat now if you're hungry, Granger." He sighed. 

"Since when have you taken someone's advice into account? Why do you all of a sudden care? I'll do what the healer told me, Malfoy. Don't try to care about me now." 

Draco scoffed and walked away, sitting down on the green sofa, his legs spread. Hermione painfully limped towards him, stopping in front of him, he looked up at her, his eyebrows raised.

"Don't act like you care about me, Malfoy." She glared at him. 

"I just want you gone sooner, Granger." He replied. 

"Believe me, I do too." She sighed. 

Draco studied her for a moment; it was quiet. Hermione felt herself grow hot and she looked away. 

"So are you gonna eat, or am I going to have to force you? You've eaten once today. I'm not letting you go to bed hungry." He leaned back into the sofa, his arms spread across the back of it.

"Malfoy...I'm fine." Hermione said flatly. 

"Granger...the sooner you shut the fuck up and listen to me, the sooner you can leave. How many times do I have to tell you this?" He pressed his lips together and rolled his eyes. 

"Don't talk to me like that!" She exclaimed. 

Draco's jaw clenched, but his face remained emotionless. Without a word, he grabbed Hermione's wrist and pulled her down onto the sofa, placing her next to him. She felt her skin tingle.

"Stay here." He stood up and made his way to the kitchen. 

Hermione nervously fidgeted with her fingers. She obviously didn't want to stay sitting on the couch, but it wasn't like she could just get up and walk up the stairs either. She was healing, but slowly, and it was aggravating. There was nothing more she wanted to do than to leave this hell hole, however, what the hell was she going to do when she left? Was she just going to sulk about Ron forever? 

As much as she hated to admit it to herself, being with Draco here distracted her from mourning Ron. She missed him still, but it seemed like she was slowly coming to terms with his death. She didn't know if it was Malfoy being a complete ass to her, or if she was just so focused on leaving, she didn't have time to mourn Ron. 

Just then, Draco came back from the kitchen, holding a bowl of something steaming. 

He walked over to Hermione and sat on the opposite side of the sofa and handed her the bowl without a word. 

She stared into the dark broth. It smelled great. 

"What is it?" She questioned. 

"French onion soup. I had the elf make it." He looked away. "Just eat it, I have work to do." 

He grabbed the same notebook Hermione saw him write in the other day, and put on his reading glasses. 

"Can I eat this in my room?" She didn't want to argue even though she was a little reluctant to eat anything from Malfoy. But she did want some privacy. She had been around Draco too long today. 

"You can eat it down here, Granger. It won't hurt you." He said, not looking up from his notebook. 

Hermione glanced back down at the soup and hesitated. She was hungry, but she didn't want anything Malfoy touched. However, if she died, at least she wouldn't have to be here any longer. 

She shrugged to herself and grabbed the spoon, scooping some of the soup and putting it in her mouth. It tasted amazing. Her tastebuds lit up with flavor. 

It was quiet in the sitting room except for the occasional clinking of the spoon with the bowl as Hermione ate the delicious soup.

Draco glanced sideways at her, watching her eat. He hated that he enjoyed seeing her finally eat something. He cleared the thoughts from his head and continued his work. 

-

Hermione wordlessly handed the bowl back to Draco. He looked down at it, then looked at her. 

"What do you want me to do with this?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You take it back to the kitchen." Hermione replied. 

"You're in my house, Granger. Watch your tone." He growled. 

"In your house that you're keeping me hostage in." She added. 

"Blimbey!" Draco called. 

"Yes, Master?" The elf appeared. 

Draco handed her the bowl. "Take that to the kitchen please." 

"Yes sir!" The elf exclaimed excitedly, running to the kitchen. 

Another wave of silence fell between Draco and Hermione. She glanced at Draco, who didn't seem to notice the stillness. He sat there, tapping his quill against his lips, pushing his reading glasses back up as they slid down his nose and scribbled away on the parchment.

He was attractive, physically. He always had been. He was aesthetically beautiful; flawlessly handsome. Hermione didn't want to acknowledge the fact that he was one of the most good looking wizards in the wizarding world. All the Malfoys were. It was their attitudes and personalities that made them ugly. Their values and traditions made them scum. 

Hermione looked around the room, studying the same things she already had last time she sat in this room. She wanted to get back to her bedroom and sleep, but she hated bothering Draco when he was busy.

Draco looked up from his writing and took his glasses off, staring at Hermione, annoyed. "Yes, Granger?" 

Hermione turned to look at him. "Hm?" 

"You seem on edge..." He trailed off. 

Hermione felt her chest tighten. Was she being that obvious?

"I was going to ask if you can help me back upstairs. I just didn't want to bother you while you were busy." She mumbled. 

"Granger, you need to speak up." He ran his hand through his hair. 

Hermione blushed. Why was she feeling hot? Why was she blushing? 

She cleared her throat. "Can you help me to my bed please?"

"Yeah." He sighed, closing the notebook and standing up, holding out his hand to Hermione. 

She looked up at him, then down at his hand, taking it reluctantly.

They made their way up the stairs and into Hermione's room. 

Draco helped sit her on the bed and turned to leave without a word. 

Hermione didn't want him to leave yet. She wanted to ask him some questions since this was the most peaceful night they have had between the two of them. They weren't fighting and she wanted to take advantage of that. She wanted to know more about Malfoy and what had supposedly changed him. She took Ms. Frium's words into account. "Give Draco a chance. He's changed. I bet he's trying." But how has he changed? 

"Malfoy—" 

He stopped abruptly and looked over his shoulder at Hermione. 

"Granger." He stated. 

"I want to ask you something..." She bit her lip, her nerves taking over. 

"Hm?" He raised an eyebrow, still looking over his shoulder. 

"What did you do in France? What happened?" She looked down at her fingers, interlocking them. 

Draco's brows furrowed at Hermione. Instead of answering, he started walking out of the room. 

"Now is not the time for that, Granger."

"And why not?" She raised her voice a little before he went into the hall. 

"Go to sleep." 

"Can you just answer one question?" 

"Not that one." 

"Why?"

"Goodnight." 

He turned and walked down the hall, his footsteps growing further away. Hermione laid back onto the pillows and pulled the comforter over herself. 

She could've sworn she saw Draco put a hand over where his dark mark was when she asked him that question.


	12. Chapter 12

Hermione stared at herself in the mirror. The morning sunshine casted a peaceful golden glow in the room. She didn't have the best self esteem, but she couldn't resist thinking she looked like a goddess in the golden hour of dawn. She had just noticed her baby bump was starting to grow. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.

She clasp a hand over her mouth and teared up. This was real, this was happening. She had another being growing inside of her. A piece of Ron developing within her.

"Granger?" Draco raised an eyebrow, seeing Hermione crying at her reflection. His voice was still groggy and tired sounding, but he was dressed in day clothes.

Hermione turned to him carefully, trying not to let her healing wounds hurt.

"My baby..." She placed a hand on her small bump.

Draco looked down at her little bump, then back up at her face.

"She's growing." Hermione breathed.

"Well, at least we know she's catching up on growth." Draco said, stone faced.

"Yeah..." Hermione wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, recuperating herself.

"The elf made breakfast." Draco ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Okay." Hermione replied.

It was quiet for a moment, as Draco hesitated his response.

"I was hoping you'd come down and eat it. Staying up here isn't the best thing for you. You need to move around more. You haven't seen the entire Manor yet." Draco looked away, picking at the chipping paint in the doorway.

"What happened to keeping your distance?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows at her. "If I kept my distance, you'd be even more helpless than you already are."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I want to show you more of the Manor, Granger. I don't want you cooped up in this bedroom while you heal." He walked up to her, staring at her through the mirror.

She moved her bushy hair away from her face, looking at his reflection.

"Why are you being nice all of a sudden?"

"I'm just not being an asshole." Draco snorted.

Hermione bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. She didn't want to admit it, but she liked this side of Draco. The side of Draco that wasn't constantly insulting her, the side of Draco that wasn't a complete git.

"Let's have breakfast. I have something to show you afterwards." He said.

Hermione was suspicious, but it was too early in the morning to argue, so she just nodded.

Draco grabbed her arm and helped her down the stairs and into the sitting room. She sat down on the sofa, Draco sat down across from her in the oversized arm chair.

In front of both of them was a couple sliver trays of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. The smell tickled Hermione's nostrils. She was hungry.

"Eat." Draco said, grabbing his fork.

Hermione's eyes focused on a cup filled with amber liquid next to his plate.

"You aren't drinking fire whiskey again, are you?"

Draco stared at her as he grabbed the cup and spilled the liquid onto the floor.

"Not anymore." He replied, taking a bite of his pancakes.

Hermione blinked at the mess. "You wasted it."

"So? I have plenty of money to buy more."

Without a word, the elf showed up and cleaned the spilled liquid quickly, then left with a loud snap.

-

Hermione finished the last of her food and leaned back into the sofa, staring out of the huge windows and into the beautiful garden. The white roses looked brighter than usual as the sunlight casted upon them.

"Are you ready?" Draco stood up, straightening his tie. Hermione glanced at it.

"Is that...your Slytherin tie?" She looked up at him, his pale, grey eyes sparkling.

"There's no reason to throw out a perfectly good tie, Granger." He replied, holding out his hand.

Hermione grabbed it. She felt weird. She didn't hesitate to grab his hand this time. She wasn't scared of him as much as she used to be. Today was different. He was different.

"What are you showing me?" She asked, painfully limping along side Draco.

"You'll see." He responded.

They ventured further into the hallways and staircases in the Manor. Hermione looked around curiously. Everything was so elaborate, so perfectly placed.

Finally, they came to a huge wooden door. It had carvings on it. Roses and thorns covered the door. It was beautiful.

Hermione walked up to it. She ran along the carvings with her fingers, examining them. It was so intricate and detailed.

"This door is very pretty." Hermione mumbled.

"My mom did it." Draco breathed. "But I didn't bring you here to show you a door. I came here to show you the other side of it."

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Draco pressed his lips together, trying hard not to smile. He couldn't help but feel something in him every time Hermione showed interest in something.

Draco grabbed the golden doorknob and turned it, pushing it open gently. Hermione's jaw dropped.

It was a library. Rows and shelves of books covered the walls all the way up to the ceiling. The ceiling was glass, showing the bright blue sky and the occasional white cloud. The natural sunlight peered through, casting an innocent warmth and light. Painted roses decorated the shelves, wrapping around the walls. The white marble floor was no longer white, but black and gold. Everything sparkled and glittered in the light.

Hermione stepped in the room, twirling around slowly, trying to get everything in her mind all at once. This was a dream. This library was nothing compared to the one at Hogwarts. There was a green ladder that led all the way up to the ceiling, it automatically moved towards Hermione.

Hermione teared up and turned to Draco, who had followed her in.

"This is amazing." She sighed. She was overwhelmed.

"Thank you. It was my mother's." Draco looked around as well, admiring a room he barely had touched.

"I could live in here." Hermione snorted.

Draco looked down at her, furrowing his eyebrows.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Not that I want to live here!" She backtracked.

Draco snorted. "I can move your bed in here."

Hermione grinned happily. "You would do that?!"

Draco smiled. What had gotten into him? Why did seeing someone like her happy, make him happy? Was it even happiness?

"I mean..." He looked around. "You'd have something to do. And it'd save you the trip." He shrugged.

"I would absolutely love that!" She squealed. Out of happiness and excitement, she hugged Draco tightly. He froze.

"Thank you Draco!" She exclaimed.

He looked down at her, his eyes wide. She quickly had realized what she had just done, and looked up at him, her expression matching his.

"Did you—"

"I did..."

It was silent as they both stared at each other.

"Fuck it." Draco shrugged and kissed Hermione.

She was shocked. Her eyes widened as he kissed her, but for some reason, it felt right. It felt comforting. She deepened the kiss, not caring about where she was at that moment, just who she was with.


	13. Chapter 13

It happened out of nowhere. She was standing in this enormous library kissing the same man who was holding her hostage. Did she have feelings for him? Was this just a spur of the moment? 

They pulled away, looking at each other, horrified. They looked away quickly. Draco cleared his throat.

"I'll have your bed in here soon. Feel free to explore around. The books are here for a reason, read them." He straightened his old Slytherin tie once again, and left the room. 

Hermione didn't even have a chance to open her mouth before he left. She kissed Draco Malfoy. His lips were soft, inviting. She didn't want to tell herself she liked it, but at the same time she couldn't help but feel disgusted with herself. She was practically kidnapped by this man and she kissed him. Did the kiss even mean anything? He kissed her first, did he feel anything towards her? What made him do it? 

She was confused and flabbergasted. The overwhelming events caused her to feel faint. She grabbed the ladder that had moved towards her, and sat on one of the steps. What would Ron think about this?

She decided to pretend it never happened. It was just a moment of weakness. The isolation was driving them insane, and maybe that's how Draco dealt with it. 

Hermione sighed to herself. That was bullshit. She was lying to herself, and she knew it. However, that didn't stop her from convincing herself that, that is what happened. 

Still sitting on the ladder steps, she turned her body to face the bottom book shelves. She read the spines, trying to find something that would catch her interest. About halfway through scanning the first shelf, something caught her eye. It was a book, but nothing was written on the spine. 

Hermione looked at it for a moment, before carefully pulling it out from its place on the shelf. It was a scarlet book with silver trim around the edges, and sliver roses on the front, but no title. It was blank, but beautiful. 

She flipped open to a random page and read it to herself. 

September 1st, 1971 

Dear Diary, 

I still kind of hate addressing you like a person, but it doesn't matter, I guess. It's not like anyone else is going to read this anyways. 

Today was the first day of seventh year, my last year at Hogwarts. I won't lie, I will miss this place. It's been such a comfort for the past six years. 

Anyways, my cousin, Sirius, is now a student here. Another Black is at Hogwarts, about time. However, the poor boy got sorted into Gryffindor. How does a member of the Black family get put into something other than Slytherin? And Gryffindor of all houses! Aunt Walburga is going to hate this as soon as she gets word from him. 

Goodbye for now, 

Narcissa Black 

Hermione blinked at the signature. This was Narcissa's diary. She felt wrong reading it, but intrigued. This diary could give her so much more details and secrets about the Black and Malfoy family. She reread the passage and the only thought she could conjure was that Harry would have a field day with this book if he were to ever see it. Maybe she'd be able to smuggle it out when she healed.

Hermione flipped to random page again. 

April 11th, 1972 

Dear Diary, 

I have just gotten word that my dear sister, well, not so dear anymore, Andromeda did in fact decide to marry that mudblood Ted. She knew she was going to be disowned, yet she had done it anyways. Our blood is too pure to mix with someone of that kind. Andromeda should know better. I may be the youngest, but at least me and Bella know better. 

Sirius is still so young, but Andromeda must have told him earlier than me and the others. He seemed to just smile when I told him. He wasn't surprised at all. Andromeda was always his favorite. 

Just know, if she ever decided to have a child, it will not be my niece or nephew. Just a pathetic halfblood. 

With much dread and disgust, 

Narcissa Black

Hermione felt sick as she read the page. She knew the Malfoys had always been prejudiced against muggleborns, but knowing how far back it really went made her stomach churn. Narcissa hadn't even been a Malfoy yet, but somehow the roots of blood supremacy had been so far grounded, it seemed impossible for it to change.

She flipped to another random page. 

September 1st, 1972 

Dear Diary, 

I'm not sure if today is a day of celebration, but my other cousin, Regulus, was sorted into Slytherin. I bet Aunt Walburga is celebrating until her body hurts, because the letter she wrote to me was all over the place. She is very happy to have a son in the house of our ancestors. 

Sirius is still an outcast, as usual. Aunt Walburga says he is still close friends with the Potter boy, a blood traitor. The Potters have always been known to befriend the mudbloods and misfits. Pure bloods are too good for mudbloods, how many times does that have to be said until Sirius understands?

Anyways, I am very happy for Regulus. Another Black where they belong, in Slytherin. 

With much celebration, 

Narcissa Black

As she read it, Hermione couldn't help but wonder why Narcissa was so upset about Sirius not being in Slytherin. What was so special about Sirius that Regulus didn't have? Or was it the fact that someone she was related to got put into a rival house? Was it because Sirius had different values than the rest of his family? 

Hermione licked her thumb and flipped through the book once again. 

March 11th, 1973

Dear Diary, 

Lucius Malfoy and I have gotten married! I'm sorry I couldn't write in you sooner, but we went on a honeymoon to France. It was amazing. 

Being married to this man feels right. I've married my soulmate. It seems almost like yesterday when I smelled his scent in the amortentia in sixth year. It was about time we finally tied the knot. 

Bella is happy for me, everybody is, expect Andromeda. Andromeda says he's not the best guy I could've chosen. However, she's been saying that since my sixth year at Hogwarts when we first started dating. She says she wants what is best for me, but she doesn't understand that she's the one who married a mudblood. She's the one who went against our family values and traditions. Lucius has the same values and traditions my family has, that is the way it's supposed to be. I refuse to listen to a traitor. 

With much happiness, yet anger, 

Narcissa Malfoy

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed in sadness. How could someone do that, say that, about their own sister? How could someone just disown them just like that? Did Narcissa feel nothing towards Andromeda? 

She flipped the next page, wondering if maybe Narcissa added to it. 

March 12th, 1973

Dear Diary, 

Andromeda has given birth to a baby girl. Nymphadora Tonks. A child that will never ever be related to me in any way. She decided to marry a mudblood, she deserves the consequences. 

In much happier news, Lucius has just surprised me with a garden. Since we have gotten back from the honeymoon, I realized how dim and dull the manor had been. He surprised me with wonderful white roses. He wanted them white so I can, in his words, "paint them whatever color you'd like, because you love the rainbow." 

This man might just be the death of me. I love him. 

Very much loved,

Narcissa Malfoy

Hermione flipped towards the end of the book, finding a random page to stop at and read: 

December 17th, 1979 

Dear Diary, 

Lucius introduced me to the Dark Lord's army, the Death Eaters. He wants me to join them, I told him absolutely not. He asked why, and I didn't want to tell him, but it just came out. 

That wasn't the very ideal situation to tell him I was pregnant. 

Sincerely, 

Narcissa Malfoy

There was nothing after that. Hermione flipped through the blank pages and finally found more writing. 

June 25, 1980

Dear Diary, 

I apologize for not writing in you sooner. My pregnancy wasn't the easiest. However, on June 5, 1980, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. His name is Draco Lucius Malfoy. He looks just like his father. 

I have been bedridden since his birth. I'm weak and just now had gotten some energy to write this. 

But this baby is everything to me. There is nothing I wouldn't do for Draco. A mother's love, I guess. 

Weak but proud, 

Narcissa Malfoy

Hermione instinctively put a hand on her small, barely noticeable baby bump. Would she feel like this when her baby girl was born? She already felt a deep love towards this baby, but was it because it was a piece of Ron, or because she was going to be a mother?

She didnt want to lie to herself, she was scared. She was going to raise this baby alone. This baby would never know her father the way Hermione did. Sure, she had Harry, Ginny and the entire Weasley family to help her out, but she didn't have Ron. She wanted Ron. 

Hermione looked at the same page and found another entry.

October 31, 1981 

The Dark Lord has fallen. I didn't even want to write in you, I didn't even start with a Dear Diary, and I'm sorry for that, but The Dark Lord is gone. They say it was a baby, Sirius' friend's baby, Harry Potter. 

Everything is falling apart. Bella and Sirius have been sent to Azkaban and Lucius has a hearing soon for his innocence. 

Everything is going bad. All I have is my little boy. He started walking last week. He might be the only person I have left. 

Narcissa Malfoy

Hermione stared at the two entries. They were on the same page, yet they were both so drastically different from each other. One was happy and joyous, the other was fast written and frightening. 

"Your bed is in here now." 

Draco's sudden voice rang through Hermione's ears, causing her to jolt and hide the book behind her back. 

She faked a small smile. "Thank you." 

Draco nodded, straight faced, and turned to leave. 

"Wait!" Hermione exclaimed. 

She wanted answers. She had too many questions to ask, and she wanted Draco to answer at least some of them. She didn't want to be bothered by them every time he passed by her, or came near her. The diary opened up an entire new realm of questions she had, but she wanted to start with the basics. The first question she wanted to ask was eating at her. Even though she was trying to ignore it, it only grew. 

She pushed the book back onto the shelf behind her back, and stood up from the ladder steps. 

Malfoy had stopped and turned towards her. 

"Yes, Granger?" 

She winced as she painfully limped towards him, he stepped closer to her, meeting her in the middle of the huge library. 

She looked up at him with curious eyes. 

"Why did you kiss me?" 

Malfoy was a little taken aback. He hadn't really expected her to ask that question. He thought she'd just act like it never happened, like he was trying to do. 

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, not making eye contact with Hermione. 

"It was just a moment of weakness, Granger. Don't take it too seriously." A slight shade of pink covered his pale cheeks. "Why did you kiss back?" 

Hermione wasn't really expecting that question. Why did she kiss him back? 

She felt herself grow hot and looked down at her feet.

"Well...I'm not sure." She bit her lip nervously. 

"Granger, look up at me." Draco grabbed her chin and tilted her head up, making her look at his face. She grew even more scarlet than she already was. "I can't understand you when you're looking at the ground." He scoffed. 

Hermione was internally fighting with herself. Deep down, she knew why she had kissed Draco back, but would she ever tell him? Did he want to know?


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione nervously chewed on her bottom lip. Draco's pale, grey eyes bore into hers, causing her nerves to activate even more. Why was he making her feel like this? Why was she so nervous all of a sudden? 

"I-I don't know..." She stammered. 

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes, looking at her sarcastically. 

"Granger, you have never not known the answer to a question. This question isn't even that hard to answer. Don't be stupid." 

"I-" She looked down at her fingers, fumbling with them. Maybe it will ease her nerves, maybe not looking up at him with make her calm down.

The anxiety didn't stop. She was inches away from Draco, having him so close to her and awaiting an answer, made her anxiety spike. 

She quickly glanced up at him, seeing him with his eyebrows raised and an amused, snarky smirk plastered on his face, made her quickly look back down. 

She inhaled deeply and looked back up at him, avoiding his eyes. "I just missed-" She pressed her lips together and blinked hard, trying not to cry. "I just missed being touched." She mumbled. 

"Hm?" Draco leaned in closer to Hermione, their noses almost touching. "Speak up, Granger."

She glared up at him and ran a hand through her hair, frustration taking over. 

"I just missed being touched, Malfoy. When you kissed me, I felt good. I hadn't been kissed or touched like that since before Ron was in the quidditch accident. So, I guess I was just touch deprived." She shrugged and hugged herself, anxious about Draco's response. 

Draco looked up and over Hermione's head, focusing on the wall of books behind her, trying to avoid her gaze. He backed away a little, giving each other much needed personal space. 

He licked, then pressed his lips together, thinking. 

Hermione stared up at him, her anxiety heightening as she waited for him to say something, anything. Draco being silent after what she had just said, was the worse response she could have anticipated for.

"Dra- Malfoy, please say something." She begged, looking into his unfocused eyes. He was biting his lower lip, still staring at the wall behind Hermione. "The silence is killing me." 

Draco looked down at her and gazed at her for a moment. "I don't know how to respond to that, Granger." 

"That's a lie Malfoy. You know exactly what you want to say. Say it." 

Draco snorted and shook his head, looking away. Hermione grabbed his face, making him look at her. 

She searched his eyes, hoping deep down, maybe she could find the answer in them. If only she knew legilimency, she would be able to know what went on inside of Draco Malfoy's head. 

"Are you afraid of hurting my feelings, Malfoy? You've done enough of that. I can take it. Say it." 

Draco's jaw clenched, his eyes fixated on hers. He ripped himself from her grasp and ran a hand through his hair. 

"I was just going to say that we have something in common." He cleared his throat as it croaked on the last word. 

"Something in common?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. 

Draco sighed and sat on the bed that had been placed perfectly in the middle of the library. He grabbed Hermione's wrist and pulled her down next to him. 

"The need to be touched. When you said you were touch starved, I-" He took a deep breath. 

Hermione listened to him carefully and looked at him intently. She saw him fidget nervously with his fingers. His hands were big, pale, and veiny. His fingers were covered in rings that Hermione couldn't recognize. 

"God, I wanted to be touched too, Granger." He put his head in his hands. 

"I didn't know Draco Malfoy wanted to be touched." Hermione snorted. "Whose touch could you possibly miss?" 

Draco lifted his head from his hands and looked at Hermione. He looked exhausted. 

"My mother's." He sighed. 

Hermione was once again reminded of the diary. A mother's love, I guess. She knew Draco had always been a momma's boy, but he was a twenty two year old man. He was old enough not to expect to be pampered by his parents anymore. 

"If you miss her, why leave France?" Hermione asked. 

Draco snorted and rubbed his forehead. "I couldn't stand it." 

"Stand what?" Hermione wanted more answers. She hated when Draco was vague. "What happened in France, Malfoy?" 

It was quiet for a moment. Draco looked up at the glass ceiling. It was a clear, starry night. The oil lamps had lit themselves once the sun started setting, so the two of them were engulfed in a yellowish amber lighting. 

"I don't think it's a good time for this, Granger." 

As Draco lifted himself off the edge of the bed, Hermione quickly grabbed his hand. 

He turned around, an unreadable expression on his face, but his eyes were slightly widened. 

"I want to know. I'm done waiting." Hermione stated firmly.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows. Did he really want to tell her? Was it the right time? Would he scare her off? He didn't want to end up telling her, and break down. He didn't want Hermione to see him break down. He didn't want anyone to see him showing weakness. He was supposed to be intimidating, stone faced. He didn't want to tell her. However, maybe she needed to know. She's been here for a while, he might as well tell her something about himself, right? Would it help him in any way? Would it help him to come clean about something in his life? 

Hermione's hand felt warm against his cold skin. Her hands were soft and delicate, they were so small compared to his hands. She was such a contrast from him. They were in two opposite ends of the spectrum. How did it end up this way? He was only meant to keep her until she healed, now he was stalling the healing process. He didn't want her to leave...

Draco sighed in defeat, and sat back down next to Hermione. 

"Are you sure it can't wait until morning?" He raised an eyebrow. 

"I want to know now. I have time." She replied. 

Draco ran a hand through his hair again. It was his tick. "After the war, the Death Eaters were obviously wanted by the ministry. We escaped to France, because my parents had a cottage there-"

Hermione nodded as he talked, listening carefully to every word. She loved hearing his voice. She loved watching the mouth she kissed, move with every word. What was she thinking? She wasn't supposed to love anything about a Malfoy. She wasn't someone Draco would love. She was not his ideal person. She was a muggleborn witch pregnant with a blood traitor's baby. Besides, Malfoys and mudbloods don't mix...

"We were okay for a few weeks in France. Until, some of the former Death Eaters found us. God, I don't know how they did, but they were angry. They thought Voldemort's downfall was because of us." Draco swallowed. 

"It was though." Hermione said. "You refused to identify Harry when I struck him with a jinx. You knew it was him, yet you lied and said you didn't. And your mother lied about Harry being dead." 

"Granger, shut up and listen, or I'll leave you to wonder." Draco snapped. 

Hermione bit her tongue. She wanted to know more, and in order to do that, she had to listen to Malfoy. 

Draco continued, "They found us. They tortured us. It went on for months. They wanted to punish us. In their words, they wanted to, "show The Dark Lord what he missed out on." It wasn't pretty, Granger. They said we were too weak, too stupid to be Death Eaters. They did everything they could to our dark marks. They tried cutting it off of us, burning it off of us, cursing it off, but nothing worked. It was just endless amounts of pain." 

Draco closed his eyes and inhaled before continuing, "it went on for months, until finally the Ministry was able to track them down. We were able to escape unseen, and stayed somewhere else in France, but it was never the same." 

A silence fell between them. Hermione stayed quiet, waiting for Draco to continue, but was just met with more silence. 

"What was never the same?" She pushed. 

"Everything. My mother got the worse of the torture. She's practically almost as bad as Longbottom's parents. My father and I were taking care of her for a while, and up until a few months ago, I just couldn't take it anymore. It was driving me mad seeing the very same person that would comfort me and read me bedtime stories as a child, incapable of taking care of themselves. So I left." Draco rubbed his eyes, making sure no tears would leave them. 

"I'm so sorry, Draco." Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder. "I felt that way when I sent my parents to Australia for the battle. I didn't know I'd make it out alive. And to know they would never know I existed-" 

In a sudden moment, Draco swooped Hermione into his arms. They embraced, not saying a word. Was it romantic? Or was it just for comfort? 

It was quiet, but Hermione could feel teardrops in her hair. 

"Malfoy?" She looked up at him, he looked away quickly, letting go of her. 

"Get to bed. It's late. I'll be here in the morning to bring you the healing potions." Draco cleared his throat and left the library quickly. 

Hermione stared at the door he had just walked out of. Draco Malfoy was hurting, just like she was.


	15. Chapter 15

May 2nd, 1998

We have to leave. This will be my final entry. Since I've decided that this will be my last entry, I put this passage on the very last page of this diary. I'm sorry it's all over the place. I know there is still so many more blank pages to this beautiful book, but I can't risk taking you with us. 

Voldemort has been defeated by the very same person who defeated him seventeen years ago, Harry Potter. I will admit, I had lied about Harry's death. I wanted The Dark Lord dead. I wanted Draco to be okay. I did this all for my son. You already know how much I love him. I told you there wasn't anything I wouldn't do for him. 

We're taking off to France. As you know, it holds so many memories for us. It's a happy place. I would be lying if I told you I wasn't excited about it. 

The Ministry is after Death Eaters. We aren't safe here anymore. If I could fake our deaths, I would, however, I'm not skilled enough for something that intricate. 

Anyways, I'll be leaving you behind. You will be cozy between the many books in my library. I'll miss you, and this Manor. This library was my getaway, my hideout. It's quiet and peaceful. 

I remember when Draco was a little boy. When he was about the age of five, he would lay down with me in the library and stare up at the glass ceiling, finding shapes in the clouds. He used to love when I read him stories in there. He would climb the ladder and get a book from the highest shelf and try to read it upside down. He was so happy then. He was so innocent, kind. 

Now he's just a shell. The Dark Lord has ruined him. It's my fault. I shouldn't have brought him into this. The smile he once had as a child is long gone. He never smiles anymore. The little boy I had birthed and raised is gone. I miss him. I tried to comfort him, I tried to help him, I failed. He didn't deserve this. I blame Lucius. I was a good mother, I still try to be. Lucius was a good father, but had given up just like Draco has. I'm supposed to stay strong, I'm supposed to keep my composure, I am the mom. 

I hope we can heal in France. I hope we can become a family again. The Dark Lord is finally gone, we can be happy. 

I don't think I'll be back. 

Goodbye, 

Narcissa 

Hermione furrowed her brows at Narcissa's signature. There wasn't a last name. Did she lose herself? Did she not have time to finish? Did she feel like she wasn't worth being a Malfoy? 

Hermione clutched the sheets, twisting them in her fist. She was scared. She knew she already loved this unborn child, but would it really be this strong? Would she sacrifice herself and anything for this baby?  
Narcissa's love for Draco was incredibly strong. She was wiling to do anything for him. Was he really worth the pain? 

The sudden noise of the big library door opening, caused Hermione to hide the diary quickly underneath her pillow.

Draco's eyebrows jumped to his hairline for a second as he saw Hermione sitting upright on the bed. 

"I thought you'd still be asleep." He said, walking over to her, a tray of vials in his hands. "I'm surprised, Granger." 

"The sunlight woke me up. The glass ceiling doesn't really keep things dark in here forever." She shrugged. 

That was a lie. She woke up early so she could read more of the diary. She had gotten more insight into Draco and his family. Aside from their atrocious beliefs, they were just a normal family with normal problems. 

Hermione thought carefully to herself. She always remembered Draco acting like the world revolves around him. She always saw him with his head held high and his nose stuck in the air. However, she never really thought it'd be almost like a dollhouse. Everything was normal on the outside, but on the inside, they were far from perfect. 

Draco set the tray on the dresser that he had moved in the library as well and sat next to Hermione.

Hermione eyed him up and down. He was wearing the same outfit he had wore when she first woke up in the Manor. She examined the dark green turtleneck that was tucked into the same black khaki pants. 

"You don't have a wide variety of clothes, do you?" She snorted. 

Draco looked down at himself and then back up at Hermione, a faint amused smile appearing on his face. 

"Not in the colors I like. I don't wear the rainbow, Granger." He replied. 

"You look nice." She smiled. 

He bit his lip, trying to stop himself from smiling. "Thank you." 

"Yeah." She whispered. "No problem." 

Hermione turned towards the tray that sat on the dresser, then back at Draco.

"Did you want to take them by yourself, or do I have to help you?" He raised an eyebrow. 

"I wouldn't mind some help." She replied, picking at her fingernails. 

Draco sucked his teeth and got up, grabbing the different vials off the tray.

He stood in front of her, looking down at her and set the vials on the bed, holding just the purple one in his hand. 

"Open your mouth, Granger." He commanded softly. 

Hermione looked up at him, not breaking eye contact as she opened her mouth slowly. 

Draco popped open the vial top and grabbed Hermione's chin, keeping her head tilted. 

"Don't spit it out. I don't need another mess." He said, pouring the liquid into Hermione's mouth. 

She felt the liquid prick at her throat as she swallowed it. It tasted awful. She hated having to do this everyday. 

However, it seemed like no matter how much potion Draco gave her, she wouldn't heal. She didn't know if the potion just took a long time to help, or if it didn't work, but she was always near almost healed, but never fully. 

After the several vials were administered, Draco looked behind Hermione, and at her pillow. She looked behind her, following his gaze. 

"What book are you reading, Granger?" He asked curiously. 

She saw that the diary wasn't fully concealed under the pillow. She didn't manage fully hiding it, as it peeked out halfway, showing the silver trim and some roses. 

Should she show him? Would he be upset that she read something personal to the Malfoy family? Should she just lie about it? 

"A book." Hermione grabbed it and placed it on her lap, holding it tightly. 

Draco's eyebrows raised, then furrowed. He cocked his head to the side, showing his doubt in her reply. 

She felt herself grow hot as he examined her. She knew he looked straight through her. She knew he knew she was lying, or at least up to something.

"Let me see the book, Granger." He held out one of his pale, big hands. Hermione looked up at him, clutching the book harder.

"You aren't wearing your rings." She stated quietly, trying to change the subject. 

"I woke up late. I didn't have time. Now hand me the book." He gestured with his middle and index finger. 

Hermione held her breath. Her knuckles were growing white as her hands grasped the diary. 

"I don't want to give it to you." She mumbled. 

"Hm?" Draco leaned in closer to her. 

"I don't want to give it to you." She cleared her throat and raised her voice slightly. 

"I'm not asking, Granger. I'm telling you. Give me the book." He demanded calmly through clenched teeth. 

"But you don't have your reading glasses with you." She said. 

Draco narrowed his eyes at her and looked at her disdainfully. 

Hermione exhaled in defeat and reluctantly loosened her grip on the diary. Draco snatched it from her lap as soon as he saw her grip relax. 

He opened it and scanned a random page. Hermione saw his eyes grow wider as he scanned further. 

It was quiet as he flipped through the diary. He looked up from the book and looked almost sad and disappointed at Hermione. 

"What?" She breathed. She finally caught her breath. She didn't realize she was holding it the entire time he was flipping through his mother's book. 

"How much of this did you read?" He asked cautiously, his lip twitching a little bit. 

Hermione felt her chest tighten. She didn't like the look on Draco's face. He looked sad, but sounded angry. She didn't know what to do. She was lost. 

"A lot of it, but not all." She mumbled, nervously playing with her hair. 

"Why didn't you tell me you found this?" He sat down beside her again, raking a hand through his hair, messing it up. 

Hermione snorted and blew away a strand of hair that waved in front of her face. "Because I haven't read it all yet." 

Draco looked at her doubtfully. 

"Are you mad?" Hermione whispered and furrowed her brows in confusion. She couldn't read Draco's expression. She hated when she couldn't tell how he was feeling, because that meant she couldn't feel the opposite. 

Draco exhaled and glanced up at the glass ceiling. The sky was blue and it was high noon. The sunlight warmed the library and added much needed natural light.

"No. I'm actually grateful. Thank you for finding this." He looked down at the book, trialing his fingers down the silver trim. 

"You are?" Hermione couldn't hide the surprise in her voice. She was expecting Malfoy to do something to her, to punish her, yell at her, but it was the opposite. Draco Malfoy thanked her. He was grateful.

He snorted. "Yeah, I am. This could help my parents. My mother's memory hasn't been the same since the torture. My father might be able to use this to try to help her remember things." He smiled down at the pages, flipping through them again. 

Hermione smiled a little. She liked seeing Draco like this. Happy. Why? Did Draco Malfoy deserve to be happy? Did he deserve to be happy after everything he had said and done to Hermione and her friends? 

"She loved you. A lot." Hermione whispered. "You were her favorite boy." 

Draco bit his lip and looked at Hermione. The dark circles under his eyes were abundant, but his grey eyes were bright. 

"I know." He nodded. "She's my favorite woman." He laughed to himself. 

Hermione nervously picked at her lips. Is this how strong a mother and child relationship was? Would she love her child as much as Narcissa loved Draco? Would her child love her as much as Draco loved Narcissa? 

"Do you–" She stopped herself and shook her head. It was a dumb thing to ask him. Why would he care? 

"Do I what, Granger?" Draco raised an eyebrow. 

Hermione laughed to herself. "Nothing. It was a stupid question." 

"I want to know. Say it." Draco smirked.

Hermione scooted herself further away from Draco, not wanting to be within arms reach of him. 

"I don't bite, Granger." He snorted. "I thought you weren't that scared of me anymore." 

"Well..." Hermione looked down at her hands. 

"Just ask the question." He demanded, a hint of annoyance lacing his voice. 

Hermione gave up. Draco wasn't going to let her go without asking the stupid question, so she might as well just do it. 

"D-Do you—" She looked away, staring at the now empty tray that sat on the dresser. "T-think I'll have the same relationship with my baby as you do with your mother?" 

Draco did a double take, his eyes wide. He wasn't expecting that question, and Hermione knew it. 

"I don't know." He shrugged. "It's your kid." 

"I know..." Hermione felt stupid, mentally kicking herself for even asking the damn question. "But, you and your mother have such a close relationship. I wish I had that. I'm pretty sure my parents always felt weird around me. I don't think they hated me, but I'm convinced they tried to tell themselves they had the wrong child. I don't blame them, though. I mean, how can two muggles have a witch as a child? I was a disgrace. A thing that had to be hidden. You were encouraged. You were free to express your powers, Draco. I was told to hide it." 

"Granger..." He inhaled deeply before continuing. "It wasn't all rainbows and butterflies." 

"Maybe not to you, but to me it is." She replied. "God forbid my muggleborn blood, right?"

Draco looked back up at the ceiling, watching a cloud slowly pass by. 

"Why don't we go outside? I think we can both use some fresh air." He said.


	16. Chapter 16

Hermione was a little put off on his response. 

"Outside?" She blinked. 

"Yeah. We can stroll the garden." Draco got up, straightening his wrinkled turtleneck. "It's not dark outside, so you'll be okay." 

Hermione stared at him stupidly. 

He held out his hand. "Let's go. I like to go cloud gazing." 

Hermione bit back a smile and took his hand.

Draco led her down the stairs and to the front door. This time, Hermione was smart enough not to touch the knob.

Draco smirked down at her, grabbing the doorknob. "Learned your lesson, have you?" 

"Yes." Hermione replied simply.

Draco gave a faint laugh and turned the knob, opening the door. 

The sudden brightness of the sunlight made her squint and shield her eyes. Draco pushed her gently over the threshold. 

She blinked for a minute, adjusting to the light change. 

She looked down. She was barefoot. The grass felt amazing against her skin and tickled her with every step. Walking was still a little painful, but it was manageable. She stood there, staring at her feet, moving them through the grass, laughing to herself as the dew stuck to her skin. 

"Granger, it's just grass." Draco said. 

"I know." She sighed happily. "It's just nice to be out here." 

Draco pressed his lips together. "We barely made it outside, there's more to see." 

"Okay." Hermione was in a good mood. She didn't want to argue, or disobey. She just wanted to cherish being outside, even if it was with Malfoy. 

They walked along the cobblestone trail that surrounded the Manor. It was cold. Hermione caught sight of the white rose bushes. 

"I read about the roses in your mother's diary. It was very thoughtful of your father to give her something like that." Hermione said, clutching onto Draco's sleeve for extra support. 

Draco smiled and gave a faint laugh. Hermione had never seen him like this. He was in a good mood too. Was it the nice weather? The resurrection of the diary? 

"Yeah. They're white because every time my father asked what my mother's favorite color was, she'd respond with a different one every time. He thought if he just got white ones, she could turn them any color she wanted." Draco explained, the faint smile still not leaving his lips. 

"But they're still white..." Hermione stated shyly. 

"She loved them too much to change their colors. I think when she saw these, white became her favorite color." 

Draco and Hermione approached the rose bushes. Hermione brushed her fingertips against the soft rose petals. 

"They're beautiful." Hermione breathed. "And you still keep them alive?" She turned and looked up at Draco, who stared down at her. 

"My elf does." He replied. 

"I adore roses. They're my favorite." Hermione caught sight of the thorns that littered the stems. "They look so innocent and lovely, until you see the thorns." 

"Sometimes, pain is pleasure, Granger." Draco shrugged. "Do you want one?"

Hermione's feathery eyebrows knitted together in the middle. "They have too many thorns, it would be impossible—" 

Without a word, Draco reached his hand in the thorny rose bush and plucked a single rose, picking off the thorns, before handing it to Hermione. 

"Draco!" She gasped. "Your hand!" 

His hand was bloodied with tiny little pin pricks and scrapes from the thorns. 

"I'll be fine." He licked the blood from his hand.

Hermione stared at him. He was attractive. She felt her breath hitch as he made eye contact with her while he licked up the last of his blood. 

Hermione stared down at the rose, her face growing hot. She didn't want to be distracted by him. 

"You know, blue has always been my favorite color." She mumbled. 

"Blue?" Draco lifted an eyebrow. 

Hermione nodded. "Royal blue."

"Here." Draco pulled his wand from his sleeve and flicked it at the rose, turning it a beautiful dark azure blue. 

"You didn't have to do that." Hermione breathed. She was in awe. 

"I know." Draco ruffed up his hair again. 

They began walking again. Hermione held the thornless rose close to her. 

It was silent, the only sound was their footsteps against the cobblestone. 

Hermione couldn't help but think about her life after she was healed. She'd be alone. Alone and pregnant. Yeah, she had Ginny and Harry and the rest of the Weasleys to help, but that's only to help. They weren't the parent. It's not like she could just leave the baby with Molly and Arthur forever. Hermione was the mother. She was the sole parent of this child. She loved this baby already, but how much would her life change when she finally arrived? 

"I'm scared." Hermione uttered. 

Draco stopped abruptly, making Hermione stop too. 

"Why?" Draco's brows mended together, confused. 

"How am I going to take care of this baby by myself?" She could feel tears pricking her eyes. 

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "You have Potter and the others, don't you?" 

"Yeah, but..."

"But?" 

"I can't rely on them all the time. I have to step up. But, I don't even have a place of my own. I don't want to have to stay with Harry and Ginny forever. It isn't their responsibility to take me and the baby in." 

Draco stepped in front of Hermione, his eyes fixed on hers. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

"It was bothering me." He said. 

Hermione smiled softly. "Thanks." 

"You're welcome." Draco's lips curved slightly upwards. "And you'll find a way, Granger. You always do." He licked his thumb and rubbed her cheek. 

She furrowed her brows. 

"You had a smudge on your cheek. Looks like ink." He stated. 

She was slightly trembling, but it wasn't a bad kind. She felt breathless. She felt weak. This isn't how she pictured it. Every time she looked into this damn man's eyes, she felt something. She felt safe. Every time he touched her gently, she felt a jolt of electricity in her body. She never felt this with Ron. 

This wasn't supposed to be easy. She wasn't supposed to just fall in love with a former Death Eater. She wasn't supposed to fall for her childhood bully. Was it love? Was it lust? Was she just needing someone? 

This was going too fast for her. She wasn't supposed to forget about Ron this easily. This was like an insomniac sleep. She couldn't fall, but she wanted to. Oh god, she wanted to. This man was Lucifer. The most beautiful angel that God had created. But he was an outcast. He was the evil one. How could someone so beautiful and handsome, be so vile underneath? However, unlike Lucifer, he was trying to change. 

This is hard. She doesn't want to know this madness. The chaos in her chest drove her insane, as her heart beat grew faster the more she thought about him. Her eyes betray her. They trail down his body, examining it, studying it. It's all over. He can tell.


	17. Chapter 17

March 1st, 2003

Hermione stared at her reflection like she did every morning. Today was different. She looked...different. Her cheeks weren't as hollowed out, they began to fill. Her skin color started to go back to its original tone. However, her eyes still had no light in them. Her eyes were still dull. She still felt the same way she did since Ron had died. She still hadn't stopped mourning him. Why would she?

She looked into her reflection's eyes. She couldn't believe she had been here for a month. She looked like she was getting better, but only in the aesthetic. Physically, she still struggled to walk without pain. She was healing slowly, too slowly. With the amount of potions Draco was giving her everyday, she thought she'd be healed way earlier. She wasn't still supposed to be here.

She examined her wounds. They looked not fresh, but not healed. Her plain white bra and matching underwear were light and gave her access to most of her skin without her being completely naked. Doing this also made her baby bump show a little more. She was growing.

"Granger?" Draco appeared behind her in the mirror. She jumped slightly and twirled around, facing him.

"I'd much rather you knock." She sighed, holding a hand over her chest.

"Didn't think I'd had to. The door was wide open." Draco shrugged.

He eyed her up and down. "Where are your clothes?"

"I was examining my wounds. It's kind of hard to do that when I'm fully clothed." She shrugged. "Besides, you're in your boxers."

"That's different. It's my house." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Whatever." Hermione looked back at the mirror, dismissing him.

At this point, she didn't care that she was half naked in front of Malfoy. It's not like he wanted her anyways. She was a mess. Who would want a pregnant and widowed muggleborn?

Hermione grazed her injured thigh and winced slightly. It still hurt. Why did it still hurt?

"I'm not healing." She mumbled.

"Hm?" Draco raised an eyebrow, his attention moving to her instead of his hands.

"My wounds...why aren't they healing?" She looked up at him, she wasn't meaning to sound or look scared, but she was. She didn't want to stay here. She was a nuisance, a pest.

"Hell if I know, Granger." Draco furrowed his brows and shrugged again.

"What potions are you giving me?"

"The healing ones."

"Don't play stupid, Malfoy."

He exhaled loudly. "My elf gets them."

"What do you tell your elf to get?" Hermione arched an eyebrow.

"Healing potions!" Draco exclaimed.

"I don't believe you." She narrowed her eyes.

Draco looked her up and down again. "I'm not having this conversation until you put on some clothes. I didn't buy you an entire wardrobe for nothing, Granger."

"I want to know why I'm not healing, Malfoy! What are you doing to me?" She yelled. She was tired of playing games. She was tired of being nice. She had been here for a month and wanted out, or did she? She always second guessed herself.

"I don't know!" He yelled back. "Maybe you take longer to heal, I don't fucking know!"

"Draco, don't play fucking dumb with me!" She approached him, their noses touching as she spat at him.

"Granger. Back up." He growled through clenched teeth.

"Why? Why should I?!" She poked his chest hard. "I want to know what the fuck you're giving me!"

"Why?! It's none of your business!"

"Anything that goes into my body is my business!"

Draco stepped away from her and paced to the doorway of the library.

"I'm leaving." She said, pulling her drawers out and grabbing a pair of shorts and a brown jumper. She wanted something she could easily put on quickly.

She slipped them over herself and with some pain, marched to the doorway.

"No you aren't." He held out his arm, blocking her from getting through.

"I don't care if I'm not fully healed. Lift the enchantments. I'm leaving." She looked up into his eyes, glaring disdainfully at him.

She was done. She wanted to go somewhere else. She missed Harry and Ginny. She missed going to the Burrow. She didn't want to be around the man she hated. She hated him so much. She think she hated him, she wanted to hate him.

Draco looked down at her and narrowed his eyes. "No."

She slapped his chest. "Let. Me. Go!" She enunciated with every slap.

He grabbed her wrists and she saw his jaw clench. There was fire in his eyes.

"I'm not letting you go!" He yelled.

"Then heal me!" She cried. "I want to leave!"

"I can't do that." He breathed.

"Then give me your wand so I can do it myself."

"No."

"Why are you doing this to me?" She teared up.

Draco closed his eyes and looked away, letting go of her wrists.

He didn't say anything. He was scared to. He didn't want her to know why. He didn't want her to know the truth. But would the truth make her stay?

Hermione backed away from him slowly. "What are you doing to me?" Her voice cracked.

"I'm not doing anything to you." He glared at her.

It was more of what she was doing to him. Being here, in the Manor with her made it seem so much smaller than it actually was. They always ended up bumping into each other. They always had to be together, even though they wanted to keep themselves as far away as possible from each other.

But she was doing something to him. He didn't know what, but he was softer, he thought. He couldn't stay away from her. He wanted to, god, he wanted to stay away, but it felt like he was dragged towards her. She was like a magnet.

Maybe it was the fact that she was as burnt out as he was. Maybe it was because they had similar scars from the war. Not just physical scars, but mental ones, emotional ones. They were both crazy. They were both mad.

He felt weird. He hadn't felt this way for anyone, but what was he feeling? It hurt.

"I'm leaving. Lift the enchantments." Hermione sighed.

"No." He clenched his jaw.

"Why?" She clenched hers as well.

Draco exhaled and avoided her eyes. "I don't want you to leave."

"What?" Hermione's eyebrows shot up to her hairline.

"I don't want you to leave." Draco repeated quietly.

"Why?" Hermione breathed, sitting on the bed, unable to stand without pain shooting through her leg.

Draco sat on the floor in the doorway. He didn't want to stand. He didn't want to seem intimidating anymore.

"You don't understand how lonely it is, Granger. This Manor is too big for just me."

Hermione's eyes ventured to his dark mark. It was scarred up. It looked awful.

"Malfoy..."

Hermione thought the same thing. She was lonely too. Did she really want to leave? She had to admit it to herself, she didn't really mind being here. It was quiet, and she could read as many books as she wanted too. This past month hadn't actually been that bad. Draco wasn't as awful as he had been the first few days he had kept her here. Maybe it was the pain she was in. Maybe the pain is why she wanted to leave. She thought the pain would stop once she left.

But it wouldn't. It would just get worse. If she were to leave, who would be waiting for her? She didn't want to go back to Harry and Ginny. She didn't want to be babysat by them.

She just wanted things back to the way they were. She wanted Ron to be alive, she wanted to go back to the Ministry and just be happy. But that's not how life works. Life doesn't go the way you want it to go.

Hermione painfully got up from the bed and sat on the floor next to Draco, her head on his shoulder. She didn't care if they hated each other or not, he needed someone, anyone. And deep down, Hermione wanted to be that someone.

"I don't know if I'll stay, but I won't leave yet." She whispered.

  


"No. I don't want to force you anymore. If you want to leave, I'll heal you and lift the enchantments." He sighed.

Hermione gazed up at him. His eyes were glossed over with tears. She wiped them away.

His skin was soft, but cold. He looked even more tired and worn out than Hermione had seen him before. He was broken, like her, with the kind of profile sculptors liked to cast in bronze: an icy young god chiseled from the elements. Even in moments of icy repose, she could sense that menace clawing just beneath the surface. The knowledge of its presence drew her, even as she knew that it should have repelled.

But this was different. He lured her in. The closer she got to him, the closer she was able to study him, she could feel something in her burn. She wanted something else, something different, something more than just baseless fighting and arguing. Passion and romance, perhaps, or maybe quiet conversations in candlelit rooms, or perhaps something as simple as taking about the universe, or his mother's roses.

But she hated him. How could she grow to love someone who hadn't been on her side until now? It was her choice, after all. It was her life. At the moment, how much worse could it get? If she ruined it now, it wouldn't make much of a difference.

He kissed her, maybe she should return the favor.

"This is my choice, Draco." She smiled, kissing him gently on the lips.


	18. Chapter 18

She kissed him. Why did she kiss him? It was her choice, after all. But why was this the choice she made? Did the kiss mean anything? Was there any feelings behind it? There had to have been, right? Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, maybe it was her starvation and deprivation of being loved and touched.

That's what it was. She wanted to be loved. She wanted to be cherished and held. She wanted to be told it was okay.

His lips were cold, yet inviting. To Hermione's surprise, he didn't pull away, but deepened the kiss. Hermione wasn't expecting this, but she liked it.

It was almost like sparks flew in the room. She didn't feel this way with Ron. Why was it different this time? What did Malfoy have that Ron didn't?

Draco wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap, biting and tugging on her bottom lip gently. Their tongues danced in synchronized circles inside each other's mouths. They were pent up. They wanted release.

Their bodies entangled beautifully. Their curves matched so well with each other, it was almost like they were the last two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. They fit together.

Draco's hands slid up Hermione's shirt, palming her breasts. She moaned quietly in his mouth, turning him on even more. God, he wanted her and she couldn't stop wanting him.

Her nipples were sensitive, and he knew it. His thumbs flicked over them, causing Hermione to gasp softly into his mouth.

Suddenly, he pulled away.

"Do you want this?" He asked, breathlessly.

Hermione furrowed her brows. Why was he asking? Usually a Malfoy just did what they wanted to do and asked questions later. This was new and something she obviously didn't expect. But the question pounded through her skull. Did she want this? Did she want to be intimate with the person who had tormented her and her friends throughout their childhoods?

She couldn't lie to herself. He had this irresistible aura around him. He always had. Was it the hormones? The isolation?

She had to remind herself that this wasn't the first time Draco had touched her. She had flashbacks of when Umbridge caught Harry in the fireplace using the floo network, and the inquisitorial squad barging in. Draco had held Hermione close to him. Too close. He had his arm wrapped around her waist tightly, and his other around her chest, her breasts underneath.

She was right against him. She could feel his chest rising behind her back. His breath was hot against the tip of her earlobe. She could feel herself growing hot, heat pooling between her legs. However, it wasn't long before Draco roughly shoved her to Millicent instead.

Or back in third year when she slapped him. She had noticed how soft his skin was. She remembered how the contrast of the redness from the assault compared to his pale skin.

He wasn't back for seventh year. Barely anybody was. Hermione couldn't help but notice how there wasn't a single pale blond in the crowd of students. It hurt, but why? Why was she looking forward to seeing Malfoy for seventh year?

There was a reason she stayed a virgin until she left Hogwarts with Ron. Hermione had always thought sex was more than an act of pleasure, she thought it was the ability to be able to feel so close to a person, so connected, so comfortable that it's almost breathtaking to the point you feel you can't take it. And at this moment you're a part of them. She only wanted to be apart of one person. She wanted to become Ron's other half and she did, until her other half died instead.

But maybe this was a renewal. Maybe this was her time to become someone else's other half again. If she couldn't have one, she had to become one. Learn to become whole again. And if learning to become whole was to merge and entangle herself with Draco Malfoy, then that's the deal she would make.

She didn't even want to think about love right now. Love was a strong word. Did she love Malfoy? Did she have the same feelings towards him as she did Ron? Was this Stockholm Syndrome? Why was she doing this? She felt good, that's why, right?

Deep down, she wanted another chance to touch Draco. She wanted to feel the softness of his skin, his breath against her ear. She wanted what she only got for a few moments last time.

"Yes, I do." She whispered. "I want to be touched, Draco, touch me some more...please."

Draco took that as a green light, holding her face in his hands as he kissed her soft lips again. He nipped at her bottom lip, asking for entrance and she answered, slightly opening her mouth, their tongues once again exploring each other's wet caverns.

He slid his hands down her body, lifting the jumper she had on, over her head, and in a swift and quick motion, her bra dropped to the floor as he gracefully unhooked it. Her bare chest was against his, their skin to skin contact made their bodies heat up even more, their hormones began to race even faster than before.

It was like they were teenagers again, their hormones raging. Hermione felt younger than she had felt in a while. She wanted this, god, she wanted this so much.

She didn't care that she may have been betraying Ron. She wanted Ron to watch from the heavens. She wanted him to know what he was missing. She was pent up, lustful, and Ron had died, leaving her pregnant and miserable. She didn't want to be miserable anymore. She was already having his baby, she'll always have a piece of him, and maybe that was all she needed. A piece. Maybe she didn't deserve to have the whole package.

Draco slowly lowered her onto the ground from his lap, hovering over her. He kissed her neck, nibbling slightly and trailing his kisses down her bare chest and belly, to the waistline of her shorts.

"You're breathtaking, you know that?" He whispered.

Hermione grew hotter, her face grew pinker.

"You wouldn't have said that five years ago." She replied.

"Well I said it five years later." He chuckled.

Draco stopped and looked up at Hermione, his thumbs already ready to pull them down.

"Are you sure, Granger?" He asked breathlessly. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"No! I want to. It was my choice, Draco. And call me Hermione." She bit her bottom lip, embarrassment flushing across her face.

Draco smiled and pulled down her shorts, along with her underwear. She felt exposed as the cold air hit her privates. But she liked it.

For some reason, she didn't feel the need to hide herself in front of Draco. For some reason, she felt comfortable showing her skin to him. He was accepting, because they both had similar scars from the war, they both had flaws, and she wasn't embarrassed by that. She loved that they were both flawed.

She felt tingles electrifying her as Draco planted soft and gentle kisses along her inner thighs, taking his time to get to her special spot. She groaned impatiently, covering her mouth quickly as she realized what she had done.

Draco chuckled, "Don't worry, I like when my girls make noise, just shows me how good they're feeling and that I'm doing everything right."

Hermione slowly moved her hand away, but was still too embarrassed to let out any noise. She bit her lip hard as he had finally reached the part of her that ached and pleaded for him. She was soaked, she already knew. Just looking at Draco Malfoy made her wet her knickers.

She felt his hot breath on it. She wanted him. She need him.

"Please..." She breathed. "Don't tease me."

"Well, since you asked nicely..." He laughed.

A wave of electricity shot through Hermione as she felt Draco's mouth on her intimate spot. His tongue swirled around effortlessly, and gracefully. She clutched onto his hair, her back arching slightly as he began fucking her with his tongue.

She was in ecstasy. She felt like she was floating. It had been so long since she had been this intimate with anyone, and with Draco, she was letting her hormones do the work. She loved it.

He was addicting. He was like a glass of fine wine after a hard day at the Ministry. He was a beautiful statue that had been broken so many times, but restored to become even more beautiful than before. He was ice water and she was the hot summer day. They just went together. One provided relief, the other caused the need for it.

He worked his tongue even more, Hermione's legs began to shake.

"Hun, if you need to come, just to do it." Draco chuckled.

Hermione moaned in response, the pleasure was too much to form any coherent words.

The knot that had been growing, finally untied itself, leaving fireworks exploding within Hermione, her vision growing fuzzy as she engulfed herself in the overwhelming climax.

She wasn't done. She wanted more. She was hungry, starved. They both were.

Without hesitation, as her vision cleared up, Hermione pushed down Draco, climbing on top.

"Hermione, is this-"

"Yes, Draco. It is." Hermione cut him off, pulling his boxers down, revealing the hard bulge that desperately needed to be freed.

She slid him inside herself, kissing him as she did it. Draco moaned in her mouth, the pleasure of being inside of her was absolute perfection. She was the perfection he needed.

They looked into each other's eyes, both engulfed in the flames of pleasure, passion and desire.

  
  


They wanted each other. They needed each other. But how was Draco going to handle a pregnant Hermione? It wasn't his child. He wasn't responsible for it. Did he still want her, even though she was pregnant with a blood traitor's child?

She was a mudblood, he was a Malfoy, and here they were having the best sex both of them have ever had. Their insides flared up with lust. Each stroke both had them a moaning and groaning mess.

Finally, Draco finished inside of her with a loud groan, grabbing her hair in the process. And the knot in Hermione's stomach let itself go once again, leaving Hermione shaking in pleasure. She collapsed on top of him, their breathing still uneven and ragged.

After a few moments of silent panting, Draco sat up with Hermione still collapsed against him. He stroked her hair and laughed, "Jesus, Hermione, next time you have to give me the reigns."

"Maybe I like control." She giggled.

"That's for sure." He kissed the top of her head. "But...what does this mean? Will you stay? Are you staying?"

Hermione looked up at him and into his piercing grey eyes. Did she like Draco enough to stay here? Would he lift the enchantments if she did? If she stayed here, would she not be able to leave? And if so, would she have the baby here? Did Draco understand that he would be with a pregnant witch? Did he understand what he was getting himself into?


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione thought for a long moment before answering. All the questions she wanted to ask, ran through her skull at an alarming rate. What would happen if she stayed? How would she tell Harry and the others? 

She looked into Draco's eyes. He looked pained, hurt, but she couldn't understand why. 

"I-" She cleared her throat, her voice a little raspy from earlier. "I need some time to think about it Draco. You don't understand what you're signing up for." 

"If I didn't know what I was signing up for, I wouldn't have asked, Hermione." He twirled a strand of her curly hair around his fingers. "I want you to stay. I want you to be with me."

Hermione could feel her chest tightening up. He wanted her to stay. She couldn't help the voice in the back of her head that doubted everything he was saying, that didn't want to stay; the small voice that gave her every negative detail about everything. 

"Draco..." She felt her voice shake slightly. She wasn't going to cry, not here. "I don't know if I want to. This place..." She looked around at the magnificent display of books and intricate details on the walls and shelves. "This place doesn't hold the best of memories, as beautiful as this Manor is, the past of it is dark and grim."

Draco looked at her, exhaling softly. 

"Yeah, I understand." He cleared his throat, as it cracked on the last word. "Take as much time as you want to think. I'll make sure you get healed up quick and I'll lift the enchantments."

"Thank you." Hermione sighed, standing up. She held out her hand to Draco, who took it gladly. 

He towered over her. She studied his features once again, her mind clearing after the climax. He had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. She guessed he must have been used to that, the sudden pause in a person's natural expression when they looked his way followed by overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. Of course the blush that accompanied it was a dead give-away. 

It didn't help that he was so modest with it, it made the girls fall for him all the more. Despite all the opportunity that came his way he was a one-woman-man who prized genuineness and thoughtful conversation above lipstick and high-heels. He was handsome alright, but inside he was trying to become beautiful. He was trying to destroy the ugliness inside of him. He wanted to pretend his past never existed.

Hermione wondered how he was able to look himself in the mirror everyday without becoming obsessed with himself. After all, how could someone so handsome, not develop narcissistic behavior? He was modest about his looks, always had been, it was his blood status and family roots he was arrogant about.

"Do you...want to take a walk? It's beautiful outside." Draco looked towards the window, raking a hand through his hair nervously. 

Hermione followed his gaze and stared out the window. It was sunny. The clouds littered the bright blue sky beautifully. It almost looked like a painting. 

"It is. Maybe we can go cloud gazing too." Hermione suggested. 

Draco smiled. "Cloud gazing? You read that part?" 

"Your mum might have mentioned it." Hermione laughed. "She said nothing but wonderful things about you, Draco. She really loved you." 

"I know. I was her pride and joy." Draco grinned. 

-

Hermione breathed in the fresh afternoon air, it smelled of roses and cut grass. The warm sunshine made up for the chilly spring air. 

It was quiet between Draco and Hermione as they walked down the cobblestone trail. Draco stared up at the clouds in the sky and Hermione examined him. She had never seen him this relaxed. He looked happy. However, the bags under his eyes and the dark circles that surrounded them were still prominent. Even though he was happy now, he was still suffering, but why?

"That one is shaped like a dog." Draco said, pointing up at a fluffy white ball of vapor. 

Hermione giggled. "You can tell without your glasses?" 

"Shut up, Granger." Draco laughed. "I can see clouds. Besides, Mum always told me to use my imagination." Draco's smile faded. 

"Do you miss her?" Hermione asked quietly. 

"Of course I do. But I just can't bring myself to see her. It's too painful. I hate seeing the woman who taught me so much, barely able to survive without my father there to help her." 

"I will never understand what that's like, but I understand how you feel." 

"I don't think you do, Hermione." Draco looked down at her and sighed, then turned his attention to the rose bushes dancing slightly with the breeze. "My parents weren't the strict, authoritative people others made them out to be. My parents were lenient. I was able to do anything I want, whenever I wanted. I had everything handed to me without an argument. And I think that's where the problem was. Believe it or not, Granger, I hated not having structure."

"How could you hate having everything you wanted?" Hermione looked up at his face. He was even paler looking in the bright sunlight. 

"Because you can't find genuine love out of items, Granger. I know now that my parents did the best they could, but when I was a teenager, I didn't think they really loved me." 

"Why would you think that? You know how much they loved you. It's all written in your mum's diary." 

"I know that now." Draco huffed. "But back then, I was tired of being handed a bright and shiny new item instead of being able to spend time around my parents physically. Like we both talked about, I craved to be touched. No amount of items could fill my need to be hugged, kissed, even just brushed up against." 

Hermione looked down at her walking feet as Draco spoke. She felt like every time she looked at him, he'd get distracted by her, and she was right. Every time Draco caught even just a glimpse of Hermione's face, he would lose track of what he had just talked about. 

"When we got to France, I finally had what I wanted. I got to be alone with my parents. I got to spend time with them, even when we were being tortured." 

Hermione's heart sunk as Draco finished his sentence. She couldn't imagine how much physical and psychological pain him and his parents had gone through. She didn't want to imagine it. All that went through her head was how much Draco craved love from his parents to even count torture sessions as quality time. 

"Anyways." Draco shook his head and straightened himself, a little embarrassed for opening up even more than he thought he should've. "I wanted to tell you, I'm having a party tonight." 

"A party?" Hermione turned to look at him, stopping abruptly. 

Draco rubbed the back of his neck and smiled apologetically. "I wasn't able to tell you earlier, because you know..." 

Flashbacks of earlier this morning flooded Hermione's brain. She had almost forgotten they had sex on the floor of his massive library she called her bedroom. 

"How will you throw a party, when barely anyone knows you're here?" Her voice came out a little sharper than she intended it to. 

"They're friends I made in France. They know me and my parents. The Malfoys are relatively well known. But you won't have to worry, there won't be any former Death Eaters, I'll make sure of it." 

"Any reason for this party?" Hermione folded her arms to her chest. 

"It's been planned for months, Granger." He sighed, noticing the annoyance in her voice. "I told them when I got back to Britain, I'd invite them over to see the Manor."

"And what am I supposed to do? Just hide in the library?" Her annoyance was getting too prominent to hide. 

Draco chuckled and shrugged. "I mean, you can if you want, however, I'd prefer if you stood next to me and looked pretty." 

Hermione felt herself blush, she knew she had turned a dark shade of magenta. 

"Is that a yes?" He smirked.


	20. Chapter 20

Hermione stared at her open drawer, tired from going through the endless pile of clothes. 

She heard quiet footsteps come through the open library door. Draco stood there, already in his formal attire, looking even more handsome than he usually did, if that was even possible. 

He wore a plain shirt that buttoned up fully to support the graceful bow tie he was wearing. On top of the shirt, he was wearing a trendy vest with 6 buttons, it had a narrow v-line, which allowed for the top to remain visible even when the suit's jacket was buttoned up.

The jacket was a perfectly tailored fit for him. It had an intricate rope strike pattern which made it look stylish and graceful. The 6 buttons of his double breasted jacket were all buttoned up, it was the only right way to wear it.

Her eyes flickered down to his pants. He was wearing pants that were the same color as the jacket, but a slightly different pattern and they perfectly complemented his shoes.  
To top it all off, he wore a sleek belt, which could have been accompanied by a brooch and a tie clip.

Hermione blinked a few times, disbelieving that he stood in the doorway. He smiled and walked towards her, furrowing his eyebrows in amusement as he saw her move her bushy hair out of her face and sigh in frustration. 

"Are you okay?" He chuckled. 

Hermione threw her face into the overfilled drawer. "I don't know what to wear." Her words came out muffled as she buried her face deeper in the clothing. 

"Hermione." Draco laughed. "I can't understand you when you're suffocating yourself with your wardrobe."

She lifted her head out and huffed. "I wish you told me about this party sooner. I haven't even gotten half way through looking at all these clothes. There's too many. Draco, you really didn't have to get me this much."

Draco bent down next to her, staring into the open drawer filled with fancy formal wear. 

"I wasn't going to let you rewear the outfit you had on when I took you in. It was torn and covered in blood, you needed new clothing." He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

"But not this much!" She exclaimed, pointing to a small pile of clothes she made while sorting through the drawers. "I have at least a years supply!" 

"Good." Draco snorted. "I'm not seeing the issue here, Hermione." 

She exhaled loudly and looked up at him, her eyebrows mended with slight worry. "I haven't worn anything formal since the Yule Ball. I have no clue what to wear. What's the theme? Is there a theme? What if I don't look good in anything? What if the dress I wear makes me the center of attention?" 

Draco blinked at her and shook his head as he tried to grasp everything she was saying. 

"There isn't a theme, Granger. It's just a formal party." He sighed, catching her eyes. "And anything you wear would look amazing. I wouldn't have gotten anything I wouldn't want to see you in." He pointed to the open clothing drawer. "Everything that sits in that dresser, I want to see on your body."

Hermione felt herself grow a dark shade of magenta. Her skin had become hot as he finished his sentence. Just his words made her feel like she touched her tongue to the tip of a battery. After a while, the tingle turned to electricity, making her whole body throb and buzz. Is this what it felt like to really like somebody? Was this what love felt like? She loved Ron, but he had never made her feel like how she felt at this moment with Draco in front of her. 

"I'm...I'm just afraid to see myself in such nice clothes, I guess." She bit her lip, mentally kicking herself. She must've looked like an idiot. 

"Bullshit." Draco smirked. "Here." He pulled a random dress out of the drawer and handed it to Hermione. 

She stood up, her leg aching slightly and held up the dress in front of her. It was magnificent. 

"Draco..." She was close to speechless. "This dress would definitely make me the center of attention; something I'm trying to avoid." 

Draco's lips curved upwards into a slight amused smile, his eyes exploring Hermione's soft facial features. "With as beautiful as you are, I highly doubt it would be easy to avoid being the center of attention, Hermione. Not to mention, as long as you're with me, you'll always be the center of attention. I don't think a dress will change the fact."

Hermione looked away, avoiding his eyes. She could feel her body grow hot, and her heart skip a beat. Everything that came out of Draco's mouth made her react the same way. She'd feel her blood warm and a small smile grow on her face. 

"What about my baby bump?" She asked quietly, still flustered from his previous response. 

"What about it?" He snorted, arching a brow. 

"Do you think the dress will look the same with my baby bump?" She questioned, running her hand down the edge of the dress. 

Draco pressed his lips together, his eyes flicking down to her small and barely noticeable, but ever growing, baby bump. 

"I think it will tie the entire thing together." He replied. 

"Do you think they'll notice?" She bit her lip nervously. 

"I don't think so. They have more important things to discuss with me than your small bump." He said calmly. "Now put it on."

Hermione glanced over at the doorway, then back to Draco. 

"What?" He asked. 

"I'm going to get dressed now." She replied. 

"Okay..." He furrowed his brows. 

"I would like to get dressed alone." 

"I've seen you naked before, Granger." 

"I understand, but I want to see how I look in this before you do." 

Draco sighed in defeat. "Okay, I'll leave you be." 

Just then, the doorbell rang.

"They're here." Draco took a deep breath and straightened his tie. "I'll see you downstairs soon." 

"Soon." Hermione smiled.

Draco smiled and walked out of the library, walking patiently down the stairs, taking a deep breath before answering the door.

"Ah! Bonjour, Monsieur Malfoy!" The short and plump dark haired man greeted excitedly and enthusiastically as the door opened. 

He offered out his hand to which Draco grabbed and shook firmly. 

"Bonjour, Monsieur Chapuis!" He smiled. "I'm glad you could make it! How are you?" 

The man stepped through the threshold, followed by a few others. "Just fine! And you?"

"Okay." His smile slightly faded. "I personally wanted to thank you for taking care of my mother." Draco said as Chapuis passed him. 

"Ah, oui! No problem!" He exclaimed, helping himself to a silver platter of cheese cubes that floated in the air. 

"Have you seen her recently?" Draco felt himself grow nervous. Did he want an answer? What if it wasn't the answer he wanted, the one he dreaded? 

"I have not. Your father has been keeping her very secluded since your departure." He replied, his mouth full of hors d'oeuvres. 

Draco sighed. That's not the answer he dreaded, but not the one he wanted. "Of course he has." 

"Have you sent them a letter?" Chapuis swallowed the massive mouthful of food. 

"I...no, I haven't." Draco sucked his teeth. "It skipped my mind. I've had many other things to worry about." He glanced quickly at the stairs. 

"That's fine, my boy!" Chapuis patted him on the arm, as Draco was too tall for the man to pat his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure if anything bad were to happen, they would sent a letter!" 

"Yeah." Draco faked a smile. 

Soon enough, the large sitting room had been taken up by thirty or so people. Draco grabbed a flute of Dom Perignon and sipped it, occasionally glancing up at the stairs. 

"Dammit Granger." He thought to himself as he overlooked the crowded room. He hated special events, especially when he was the sole host. 

"Monsieur Malfoy!" A woman's voice rang through Draco's ears. He jumped slightly and turned towards the sound. 

His heart dropped. She was the last person he wanted to see. He never wanted to see her again once he came back to Britain, alas, here she was strutting up to him, a wicked smirk on her face.

"Estelle!" His fake enthusiasm made him sick. 

"Draco, my baby!" She peppered kisses all over his face. Her breath reeked of cigarettes. 

"I don't remember inviting you." He stated through clenched teeth, his fake smile hurting his jaw. 

"You didn't, zat ''twas zi problem." She replied with her thick French accent. "I had to hear from my own family about it. When I heard, I came with Lebaux."

Draco stared daggers into the tall black haired man who smiled as he chatted away with some older lady. "I knew I shouldn't have told him. Fucking leech." He muttered under his breath. 

"Anyways, I have missed you!" She clung onto his arm, leaning against him. If there was any moment where he wanted to shrivel up and die, it was now. He wanted the floor to just swallow him up. 

He loathed this woman. She was everything he hated. It took a moment of weakness and torture for him to use her. She was only meant to help him cope. She was only meant to be a temporary measure. He was supposed to leave her behind. He wanted to forget everything about her, but here she was, right in front of him, acting as if he had never left. 

He didn't want to make a scene. He wanted to be a good host, and if that meant sucking up all of his emotions, so be it. 

Hermione zipped up the gown and took a deep breath before turning to look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes widened. 

The dress was a dark purple color, almost a plum shade. It left the top of her shoulders uncovered, but covered the sides and plunged down into a tasteful deep v-neck, showing her chest and the curvature of her breasts. It was a loose fit which made the dress both enjoyable to wear and look at.  
Her arms had been covered fully. The sleeves were a loose fit from top to bottom, giving the dress a slightly casual look.

The dress' waist curved into Hermione's, actuating it elegantly. A ribbon had been wrapped around her and rested gently on her lower back. She could hardly tell she was pregnant. 

Below the waist, the dress widened and turned into an asymmetric draped style. It reached all the way down, almost covering her feet and was the same length all around. The back had a small train that trailed beautifully as she walked.

Her usually wild hair was maintained in a loose, but elegant bun with two strands of her curly hair framing her face. For the first time in a long time, she felt absolutely beautiful.

"Thank you, Blimbey. You did an amazing job." She smiled down at the happy house elf. 

"It was my pleasure." She bowed and disapparated out of the room. 

Hermione stared for a while at herself, admiring how drastically different she looked compared to her first day being here. She didn't look sick, or tired. Instead, she looked well groomed and expensive, really expensive. 

With a slight ache in her leg, she walked out of the library and made her way slowly to the staircase. She was anxious. She didn't want to be stared at, she hated it. 

With a deep breath, she began ascending down the long staircase. 

"Oh, Draco! Your Manor is very nice! Such a shame you live here alone, what do you do?" Estelle clung tighter into his arm. 

He rolled his eyes and gave an annoyed sigh. "Work, Estelle." 

"Oh well–" She stopped as her eyes moved to the staircase, her jaw dropping. 

"What?" Draco raised an eyebrow, turning around towards the staircase. 

His eyes widened as he caught sight of Hermione carefully coming down the stairs. He had forgotten how to breath. 

Her deep purple dress sparkled beautifully in the light of the chandelier as the bottom of it trailed neatly and elegantly behind her. 

"Oh la la la!" Monsieur Chapuis exclaimed, coming up to Draco, nudging him slightly in the ribs. "I think we have just seen the ghost of Aphrodite!" 

Draco smiled, unable to take his eyes off of Hermione. "No. We're seeing her in the flesh." 

Hermione and Draco's eyes met. As he gazed into her eyes from the distance, he could feel himself grow hot. She looked like an absolute goddess, a deity. As his eyes explored her entire body, she began looking even more ethereal, almost like he was looking at a piece of artwork.   
It was like she had some sort of captivating fire in her. Sometimes she'll catch his gaze and he would feel like she was staring into his soul, reading everything he was trying to keep hidden.

There is enchantment in wondering...in seeing a beautiful portrait every now and then rather than an overabundance of the overexposed; He wanted the figure before him to remain a magnificent mystery, like any alluring woman is as the rarity of a thing is what makes it valuable, even an enigma, and when something or someone is that, they become captivating. She had him. From that moment, he knew either she would be the death of him, or the reason he'd reign death upon anyone who threatened her.


	21. Chapter 21

"Excuse me, Estelle." He said, pulling himself from her grasp.

Hermione smiled at him, stopping in the middle of the staircase, their eyes still not leaving each other's gaze. 

He approached her, his eyes flicking up and down her body. 

"You-" He inhaled sharply, reminding himself to breathe. "You look–" He shook his head and blinked. He was absolutely speechless. 

Hermione chuckled and looked down at her hands, nervously intertwining them. "I know what you mean." 

Draco grinned broadly at her, straightening his posture. "Hermione Jean Granger, you look absolutely stunning." 

Hermione looked up from her hands and into Draco's eyes again. "Stunning?" 

"Drop. Dead. Gorgeous. For Merlin's sake Granger, you are as envious in looks as Venus was to Psyche."

"Then you must be Cupid." She laughed. 

"If you look this damn good in this dress, I cannot wait to see the other pieces of clothing I got you. I might have you do a little fashion show for me." He laughed. She loved seeing him smile and laugh. It gave her a much needed break from his almost permanent expressionless face. 

"You don't need to flatter me." Hermione tucked one of the loose strands of her hair that framed her face, behind her ear nervously. "I'm already getting enough stares." 

She scanned the room and saw everybody's eyes on her. She wasn't used to this. Memories of fourth year flooded her mind. The deja vu was insane. It was like the Yule Ball all over again. 

However, Draco and her hated each other back then. He wouldn't even look her way back then. To him, she was just a filthy mudblood. He loved Pansy Parkinson, the one girl who could tolerate him during his school years. They were a perfect match, or so she thought, until she left to go abroad after Hogwarts. 

"You deserve the stares, Hermione. You look so amazing." He bent down to her ear, she could feel his warm breath on her neck. "After this party, I might want to undress you myself."

She gulped thickly and looked at him with wide eyes. 

"What?" He chuckled. 

"People are looking!" She hissed. 

"Good." He kissed her cheek and took hold of her arm, guiding her down the rest of the massive staircase.

She felt a heat arise from the place he had kissed her. It prickled pleasantly. 

She scanned the room again, making eye contact with a woman who, if looks could kill, both her and Draco would have fallen dead right then and there. 

"Draco..." Hermione whispered. 

"Hm?" He turned to her as they both continued slowly down the stairs. 

"That woman..." She nodded in her direction, trying not to be too evident. "She doesn't look too happy with you and I." 

Draco looked at the woman and narrowed his eyes. There were full of pure hatred and anger. "Her name is Estelle Boux. She's someone I met in France. She wasn't even supposed to be here." He said through gritted teeth. His voice was laced with slight annoyance. 

"She wasn't?" Hermione asked, her eyes flickering over to the woman. "She's very beautiful."

"No. She's on very thin fucking ice. If she says one wrong thing, she's gone." He hissed. "And she might be beautiful on the outside but god, she is disgusting on the inside." 

Hermione nodded and clutched tighter onto his arm as they descended down the last steps, Estelle approaching them with a wicked smirk on her face. Hermione grew anxious, subconsciously digging her nails into Draco's arm, which he ignored. She was thankful he did.

"Ah, Draco, I didn't know you had a maid!" Her thick French accent rang through Hermione's ears. She could smell fresh cigarette smoke on her. It made her nauseous. 

"She isn't my maid, Estelle." Draco rolled his eyes. 

"Oh! A prostitute?" She smirked. 

Hermione could feel her body grow hot in embarrassment. This woman wasn't someone she wanted to be around. This woman already didn't like her and she hadn't even uttered a word. 

Hermione glanced up at Draco, whose jaw clenched hard and his eyes flickered with anger, however, his expression was still calm. "No she isn't, Estelle. I'm taking care of her." 

"Taking care of her?" Estelle's eyes swept from Draco's to Hermione's. She could feel her stare almost burn her. "She looks perfectly fine to me." 

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when she felt Draco's arm wrap tightly around her waist, holding her close to him. She felt safe, even as the danger stood right in front of them. She leaned into him, nibbling her bottom lip nervously. 

"She's still healing. She's pregnant and hasn't been able to function well." He said, his voice tight with slight anger. 

"Pregnant? You got this woman pregnant?!" Estelle exclaimed. "You wouldn't even touch me after we had sex!" 

Draco closed his eyes and inhaled deeply for a moment before opening them back up slowly. "No, I didn't get her pregnant." 

"Then why take care of her and a baby that isn't yours?" She spat.

"Because I can, Estelle." Draco said through gritted teeth, his voice laced with pure hate and annoyance. His hand clung harder onto the flesh on Hermione's hip. "Why do you care?"

"Because I love you, Draco." She pouted. "You are zi only one I have loved! Remember when we used to–"

"Those days are gone, and good fucking riddance to them; unhappiness really meant something back then. Now it's just a drag, like a cold or having no money. If you really wanted to mess me up, you should have got to me earlier." Draco snapped. "You weren't invited here, Estelle. You aren't welcome." 

Estelle's eyes filled up with tears as she stomped her foot. "You are mine!"

"I don't belong to anyone, Estelle." Draco scoffed. 

As he said that, Hermione could feel Draco's big hand move down her back, the cold metal of his rings burning her bare skin. It seemed like he was trying to comfort her, trying to tell her he was going to handle this.

Estelle smirked, her long nails tracing Draco's forearm gently. She looked up at him through her soft lashes. "What if we went upstairs? I bet your attitude would change fairly quickly."

Draco's hand moved further down Hermione's back, landing firmly on her buttocks. She stiffened and looked up at him, but he was too focused on glaring at Estelle. Hermione could tell the woman was too close for his comfort.

"Estelle, I want you to leave. Now." He muttered, anger finally taking over. 

"Draco..." She pouted. "I know you don't want me to leave."

"You will not insult Miss Granger in my house. I don't care if you insult me, but–" He was cut off as Estelle's eyes widened and a gasp escaped her lips.

"Granger?!" She exclaimed. "One of the Potter boy's friends?" 

"Yes." Hermione and Draco replied together, causing them to exchange looks. 

"You are a traitor, Draco! Associating yourself with something as foul as a mudblood!" She spat. 

Draco's free hand flew up to Estelle's neck, squeezing hard. Her lips slightly parted, trying to intake air that wasn't coming to her. He leaned close to her face, their noses centimeters apart. Hermione looked up at him in horror, but he clung onto her too tightly for her to do anything. 

"You will not use that language under my roof! How dare you use a term like that in my presence?" He spat. 

Hermione looked around, everyone was now staring at Draco and Estelle, but nobody was doing anything. Either they hated Estelle as well, or they were just scared of Draco. 

"Why are you defending a mudblood?!" Estelle croaked, her airway still cut off. She was turning blue. 

Hermione pulled on Draco's sleeve, trying to pry his hands away from Estelle's throat. "Draco, don't–"

"Hush!" He snapped, not taking his eyes away from Estelle's. They burned with hatred. A kind of hatred Hermione had never seen in him before. She wondered what had happened between these two for him to become so irate with her. 

His jaw clenched and Hermione saw his hand squeeze tighter. "Et si je vous tuais ici? Comment pourrais-je disposer de vous? (What if I killed you here? How would I dispose of you?)"

Hermione couldn't understand the French that so smoothly rolled out of his gritted teeth, but she knew it wasn't good, as Estelle's eyes teared up and widened. 

His grip loosened a little to let her breathe slightly, her color barely coming back to her face. "Vous ne feriez pas ça, nous nous aimons! (You wouldn't do that, we love each other!)" 

"L'obscurité ne peut pas chasser les ténèbres: seule la lumière peut le faire. (Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that.)" 

Hermione gawked up at Draco as him and Estelle talked in fluent French to each other. He was angry, but even when he was drenched in anger, he was still so mesmerizing. He was still so handsome. And she couldn't help but be slightly turned on with the French pouring out from his angry, twisted mouth. 

"I already explained this. I don't like you. True, I don't like most people, but I especially dislike you. I could start my own religion based on how much I dislike you." He growled, letting go of her throat and shoving her back, causing her to stammer. "Leave. And I swear to the heavens, if you ever come back, I'll make sure you die." 

Her mouth twitched, but she grabbed her wand quickly and disapparated out of the room, without another word. 

The room was silent. All the guests looked horrified in Draco's direction. Hermione hid her face in his shoulder. She was embarrassed, but why? 

Draco looked around, seeing the wide eyes and dropped jaws of the guests. Draco smiled tightly, lifting his flute of expensive champagne in the air. "Mangeons du gâteau! (Let us eat cake!)"

And just like that, the atmosphere changed back to its playful and inviting aura. 

"Draco, I thought you were going to kill her." Hermione's voice shook from the nerves activating in her body. 

"I wish I did." He sighed. 

"She must hate her a lot to want to kill her." She whispered. 

"I'll talk about it after the party." He replied, grabbing a flute of sparkling liquid from one of the floating sliver trays, and handing it to Hermione. 

"I can't, remember?" She looked at it in her hands and smelled it. It didn't smell strongly of alcohol. 

Draco grinned. "I had the elf get sparkling cider for you. No alcohol present." 

Hermione felt tingly all over. It felt like a ping of electricity shooting through her body, but she liked it. She was grateful that he put thought into her for the party as well. 

"Thank you." She mumbled, sipping the cider. It felt cool and soft going down her throat. She liked it. 

She studied Draco. His perfect lips sipped on the liquid in the fancy glass flute. He was a god compared to everyone else she had ever laid eyes on. He was the kind of man everyone would fall in love with, even if they didn't want to. They had no choice. His looks automatically lured everyone in, even if they knew they'd regret it. 

His pale blond hair was loosely slicked back, with a few strands hanging in front of his face. His reading glasses hung on the collar of his button up. He looked so elegant, so expensive. She didn't understand how someone this perfect and ethereal grew some feelings for her. Did he love her? Did she love him? What was going on between them?

Her thoughts were soon interrupted as she felt Draco's cold hand travel back up to her waist from her buttocks. 

A man, short and plump approached them. 

"Monsieur Chapuis!" Draco exclaimed enthusiastically. 

"Monsieur Malfoy, I am here to be introduced to this lovely young woman!" He grinned, gesturing towards her. "You have yet to show her off."

"I was a bit busy with Estelle, if you couldn't tell." Draco snorted. 

"We saw! You sure put her in her place!" He said, his eyes moving from Draco to Hermione. He grabbed her hand and kissed it gently. "Aphrodite a été relancée! (Aphrodite has been revived!)"

Not understanding what he said, Hermione smiled shyly. 

"He said you're comparable to Aphrodite." Draco whispered in her ear, apparently noticing her confused smile. 

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She felt a shiver of pleasurable electricity run down her back as she felt his warm breath fan against her ear. 

"You're blushing as if you've never been complimented!" Chapuis laughed. "You, my dear, must be turning heads!" 

"Well, not really." Hermione chuckled nervously, looking down at her hands. "Nobody turns their heads for a witch with her nose always stuck in a book."

"That's because they can't see your beautiful face!" Chapuis exclaimed. "How do you expect them to turn when you're hidden behind the binding?" 

Hermione felt herself grow hot, her cheeks grew rosey in color. "Well, I suppose..." She cleared her throat, her voice suddenly becoming shyly high pitched. "I don't think I turn that many heads, it's most likely just this dress I'm wearing."

"She's just modest." Draco waved dismissively, looking down and smiling at Hermione, who looked away quickly, afraid his beautiful gaze would freeze her up again. 

"It's always the modest who are the most stunning." Chapuis straightened his tie. "I best leave you two to it, Lebaux and I have some business to discuss. Cheers!" He held his glass up high, barely reaching Draco's shoulder. Draco smirked and clinked his flute against his. 

"Are you okay?" Draco asked as Chapuis walked away, his brows furrowed. 

Hermione still avoided his gazed and swallowed. "Yeah, just a bit nervous is all."

"I'm glad you decided to come down." His lips curved upwards into a small smile. "I'm sorry for not telling you about this in advance." 

"It's okay, Draco. With everything that has happened recently, it's easy to forget things." She fumbled with her fingers anxiously. 

"Hermione, look at me." His voice rang softly through Hermione's ears. It was a gentle command, almost like he didn't want to hurt her with his voice. He took his index and middle finger, which were covered in different styles of rings and slid them under her chin, tilting it up to make her meet his face. "You shouldn't be nervous. I'm with you."

"I'm sorry, I'm just not used to be around this many people." She looked around, scanning the room once again. 

"Don't apologize." He snapped. "There isn't a reason to." 

Hermione's eyes flickered down to his white sleeve. There were tiny blood spots were she had clung onto him when Estelle approached them. 

"Oh my god, Draco, I'm sorry!" She gasped, rolling up his sleeve. 

"What did I just say?" His voice turned from soft to stern quickly. His perfectly shaped eyebrows arched in a dominant format. "Stop saying sorry." 

"But I made you bleed. Why didn't you push me off?" She licked her thumb and ran it over the small pricks in his skin. 

"I've been pained worse." He stated, his jaw clenched as he scanned the room. "In case you didn't know, dead people don't bleed. If you can bleed-see it, feel it-then you know you're alive. It's irrefutable, undeniable proof. Sometimes I just need a little reminder. So thanks for that."

"Draco..." Hermione felt her chest tighten. She had forgotten for a brief second that Draco wasn't the person he was showing off at the party. She forgot he was putting on a façade for the sake of the guests.

There had been a moment of awkward silence between them, yet she still leaned in close to him. She felt safe around him, especially when they were surrounded by unfamiliar people. 

"If you don't mind me asking–" Hermione bit her lip, nervous to ask, but she hated the deafening silence between them. 

"I'm an open book, Granger." He replied, sipping the champagne once again. 

"What happened between you and that woman?" She felt her voice grow quieter as she finished the question. 

"Estelle?" He glanced sideways at her, a slight frown forming on his lips. 

Hermione nodded, unable to speak. She didn't know if it was out of fear that she crossed the line, or if she just didn't want to say anything. 

Draco sighed and pressed his lips together, his hand gripping the flesh on Hermione's hips tighter. She felt a heat pool between her legs when he did that. 

"When you have a persistent sense of heartbreak and gutwrench, the physical sensations become intolerable and we will do anything to make those feelings disappear. And that is really the origin of what happens in human pathology." He rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves. "People take drugs to make it disappear, and they cut themselves to make it disappear, and they starve themselves to make it disappear, and they have sex with anyone who comes along to make it disappear and once you have these horrible sensations in your body, you'll do anything to make it go away." 

Hermione looked up at him. He stared down at the fizzing liquid in the flute, twirling it. He looked hurt, she could tell whatever he was thinking, gave him unpleasant feelings. 

"We don't have to talk about it right now, Draco. It was inappropriate of me to ask in a setting like this. I'm sor–" 

He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and opening them, obviously annoyed. "If you say sorry one more time, I will take you upstairs and give you something to be sorry about." 

"W-what's that supposed to mean?" Hermione stammered. 

"Whatever you want it to mean." He winked. "I heard the muffliato spell is quite good in silencing rooms. I could make you scream and no one would know." 

"Draco, I–" 

"Next time." He smiled. His grey eyes flickered over her body. She was the most ethereal person he had ever seen. Whenever he caught a glimpse of her something would light up inside of him, something he had never felt before. He wondered if this is what it felt like to be alive, to have a heartbeat, to have someone to take care of they way he wanted to be taken care of.


	22. Chapter 22

"Next time you have a party, I'd love it if you'd tell me the day before, not the day of." Hermione said as the last of the guests left, leaving the once lively and crowded Manor, dim, dull and quiet again.

"Don't worry." Draco chuckled. "There won't be another party anytime soon." 

As they made their way up the staircase, Hermione turned around, staring at the recently vacated room. 

"What?" Draco arched a brow. 

"Are we just going to leave the room a mess?" Hermione turned to him, her brows furrowed.

"Hermione." Draco bit his lip, trying to hide back an amused smirk. "I have the house elf for a reason." 

"Oh. Right." She sighed. "Can you tell how exhausted I am?" 

"Yes. Very much so." Draco snorted. "Let's get you to bed." 

They approached the library, and walked in. Hermione sighed a breath of relief. She was in her comfort spot. The smell of old books and parchment flew in her nostrils, slowing her anxiety down. It was like she was finally able to breathe again. She didn't notice how much she held her breath during the party, but now she felt like a weight had been lifted. 

She walked up slowly to the mirror, taking in her breathtaking appearance. Her makeup and hair were still intact, and the dress was still as beautiful as ever. She saw the corners of her lips curve slightly upwards as she took in her reflection. 

"I can't believe this is me." She said, tugging at the hair tie that kept her updo in place. She pulled it out, watching her bushy hair fall over her shoulders. "I like that much better." She smiled and stared down at the beautiful fabric of the dress, rubbing it between her fingertips. It even felt expensive. 

"You look absolutely exquisite, Hermione." Draco said, his reflection showing up behind hers in the mirror. He smiled faintly. 

As soon as she looked up, his eyes clicked onto her face. The breath whooshed out of her body and everything froze for a second, as though she was looking at him through a camera lens, zoomed in all the way, the world pausing for that tiny span of time between the opening and closing of the shutter.

Hermione could feel herself fluster. She had forgotten he was in the room with her for a moment. She couldn't turn away from the eyes that held her. Eyes as deep, as cold as a December winter, yet there was something that sparked with warmth, that kept those eyes from being freezing, from turning her into stone. 

"I'm not sure if I can get used to the fancy Hermione." She sighed. "It just doesn't feel like me. I'd much rather be in sweatpants, reading a book." 

Draco chuckled, "Either way, you are astonishing."

"Will you unzip me, please?" She finally caught her breath, looking into his eyes for too long made her forget how to. 

"I'd be delighted." He smirked and walked up to her, closing the small gap they had between them. 

She saw his reflection smile at her, and touch her shoulders. She gasped, forgetting that he was there physically too, not just in the mirror. 

He ignored her gasp, grabbing the small zipper and slowly dragging it down the back of the dress, letting her bare back show. Hermione shivered at the sudden breeze to her back. 

As Draco finished unzipping the dress, it fell to the floor, no longer having anything to keep it together on Hermione's body. She quickly covered her bare breasts in response. 

Draco chuckled softly and grabbed her arms from hiding her breasts, holding them down to her side and rested his chin on her shoulder. 

She looked away and shut her eyes tight. She hated seeing herself bare. She hated seeing herself without clothing. It just reminded her of her flaws and imperfections. She didn't want to be imperfect, but the scars that decorated her body, told her otherwise. 

She could feel Draco's cold hand dip under her chin and cup it softly, moving her head back to the mirror. 

"Look at yourself, Hermione." He demanded softly, his breath fanned out on her neck, making her slightly shiver in pleasure. "Open your eyes." 

She obeyed, slowly opening them, meeting her reflection once again. Her eyes flickered up and down her body. Her black lace underwear hugged her hips nicely, her bare breasts sat daintily on her chest, but her eyes focused on her small baby bump. It made her feel self conscious. She loved the baby, but not the body it was carried in. She never had. 

"You need to study yourself, examine each and every curve." Draco's hands trailed down the sides of her petite body, dipping at the curvature. "Your body is gorgeous." 

"You wouldn't have said that when we were in school." She mumbled, watching the reflection of his hands intently through the mirror, as they slid down her body. 

"We've grown, we've matured. Your curves have developed even more, your breasts–" He squeezed them roughly, causing Hermione to gasp. "Have gotten bigger since then." He laughed. "And not to mention, your presence has become a necessity to me, not a nuisance."

"The way you're talking, it seems as though it's just my body you want." She replied, her eyes glancing back up to his. She can feel his blood, just beneath his skin; when he breathes, the air fills with smoke. He's like a dragon, rare and fearless.

"That could not be further from the truth, Hermione." Draco moved her hair over to one shoulder, leaving her neck bare on one side. "I mean, to me, your body is lovely, but what I really like is your brain. Your logic. I like your reluctance with new things, but your determination to find the meaning in everything. You are something rare. You always have been. It's not the pregnant Granger that stands here practically naked before me that I like. It's the brightest witch of her age, Hermione Granger that I have always had an interest in." His chin rested on her bare shoulder once again, smiling at her in the mirror. "I never really hated you. I was just taught to." 

Hermione could feel her insides flip. Butterflies tickled the insides of her stomach. She felt conflicted. Had Draco liked her all this time? Did she have feelings for Draco in school? She couldn't remember. Did she feel the same way to Draco as he felt for her? She chewed on her bottom lip anxiously. She wanted to, she really did. After all, there wasn't anyone in the entire world that wouldn't fall head over heels for this man. He was practically built by the gods. She wouldn't be surprised if he was actually a god himself. He was quite tall compared to her with broad shoulders and an athletic physique that even his suit and tie cannot hide. Her eyes flickered upward and traveled to his strong square-shaped face framed with blond, slick back hair and strands that hung in front of his face, with deep, piercing grey eyes. The corners of his mouth curved upward when he noticed her staring a moment too long. 

"What is it, Hermione?" He smirked. 

Falling for him would be like cliff diving. It would be either the most exhilarating thing that ever happened to her or the stupidest mistake she'd ever make.

"I–" She inhaled deeply before continuing. "You're too beautiful to want someone like me, Draco." 

"Excuse me?" He snorted. "Look at yourself in the mirror again." 

Hermione gazed once again at her reflection. "I see the same person I've always seen. I don't know how you see me, I don't have your eyes." 

"Here." He smirked, grabbing his wand and flicking it, mumbling an incantation she didn't understand. 

Suddenly, she saw her eyes turn from the honey brown color, to the same color as Draco's. Her reflection didn't change, but for some reason, she found herself even more beautiful than before. 

"Draco, what the hell-"

"You said you didn't have my eyes." He whispered in her ear. "So here's how I see you through them."

"But I don't look different. I just feel different." Hermione furrowed her brows as she studied her reflection closer, trying to find any difference, any change to her physical appearance, but failed. 

"Exactly." He breathed in her ear, squeezing her waist firmly. "I obviously feel different towards your body than you do, but we see the same thing. You are imperfect, permanently and inevitably flawed. And you are beautiful. Absolutely admirable. And the best part is, I'm just as flawed and imperfect as you."

"You are the furthest thing from imperfect, Draco." Hermione chuckled shyly, her skin starting to tingle under his touch. 

"The scars on my body say different, Hermione. My dark mark reminds me everyday that I am not a perfect human being. But life imitates art, doesn't it?" His hands wrapped further around her waist, holding her tight in his arms. 

"I mean, that's the common saying, yes." Hermione chewed the inside of her cheek. Her body started burning pleasantly underneath Draco's hands. 

"You, not just your body, you are a literal piece of artwork. A Monet painting in the flesh. Tu es chaque déesse dans un seul corps. (You are every single goddess in one body.)" He gently kissed and nibbled at the bare skin of her neck, causing her breathing to become ragged. 

"Your French is amazing." Hermione stated as he pulled away from her neck.

"You can tell?" He snorted. 

"I used to go to France with my parents over the summer holiday. But I'm not fluent." She shrugged. "How many languages can you speak?" 

Draco grinned and wrapped his arms around Hermione tighter. "Well, I haven't been counting, but a good handful. I know French, Spanish, Finnish, Portuguese, Russian, German, and Swedish." 

They made eye contact once again in the mirror. It was like it couldn't be avoided. He winked at her. She smiled and looked away. "Your parents must have been amazed." 

"Not really." He shrugged. "It's pretty common for a Malfoy to know multiple languages. We used travel quite a lot." 

"Can you say something in Spanish?" Hermione turned her head away from the mirror, facing Draco. 

His perfect lips curved upwards into a small smile, looking down at her. "Atraparía cada estrella en el cielo si eso significara que decidirías quedarte. (I would catch every star in the sky if it meant you would decide to stay.)" 

"What does that mean?" Hermione chuckled. 

He snorted and shrugged. "Just some gibberish." 

They laughed. It was one of the only times Hermione felt okay. She felt happy. In that exact moment, she had forgotten about her body image, about Ron, about her pregnancy. All she saw was her and Draco as the world around them fizzed out. 

"Now," Draco stepped away from her, giving her some space. "Are you going to put on pajamas, or would you like to put the bed to use?" He smirked mischievously, his hands moving to her black knickers and playing with the waistband. 

Hermione's insides sparked. Her skin buzzed with nerves of pleasure. She wanted release. Draco had been handsy with her all night and she longed to be touched even more. However, she never knew she'd be a lot more sensitive now that she was pregnant, but she liked it. She liked that her skin tingled underneath his touch, she loved that the heat between her legs would grow and pool just by the sound of his angelic voice. 

She wrapped one of her arms around the back of his neck, her back to his chest, as she rested her head on his shoulder, while he continued playing with her knickers. 

Draco's teeth nipped at the juncture of Hermione's neck and collarbone, as his hands moved up from her waistband and up her ribcage. She gasped softly into his neck, his cold hands were almost a relief on her burning skin. 

Unable to hold back anymore, Draco spun her around to face him, and crashed his lips into hers, catching her as she stumbled back at the impact. He threw his hands under her bottom and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around him, still kissing him passionately. 

Nibbling on his ear, Hermione whispered, "Draco, I want you so bad it hurts." 

That was it, Draco was gone. At those words, he was unleashed. He had held himself back since the start of the party, but his urge to love her, only grew stronger the longer he ignored it. He kissed her neck, her chest, nipped her breasts, all while carrying her to the bed that sat in the center of the library. 

He gently laid her down on the mattress, as they both giggled in horny anticipation. He trailed his kisses down her body, stopping at the valley between her breasts. He tickled her nipple, going from one breast to another, softly, gently. Caressing her as if she was made of porcelain.

She arched her back in pleasure, her hand tussled in his hair. The sight of her in so much pleasure, made him harder. He wanted to see her like this all the time. He wished she was his. He wished she would decide to stay with him. Alas, this was all he could do until she reached a decision. He hoped he could give her everything, even if it was just temporary.

When he reached the waistband of her underwear, he looked up at her. His grey eyes bore into her brown ones. 

"Don't look away, Hermione." He said, the corners of his lips curving faintly into a smirk. 

She nodded, running her hand through his pale blond hair. 

Without breaking eye contact, Draco grabbed the fabric of the waistband with his teeth, pulling them off of her in a elegant and sexy manner. Just the sight of him undressing her with his mouth made her eyes roll back in her head.

His hands moved down the curves of her body and stopped at her hips, holding them down. He nipped at the inside of her thighs, which caused her to whine and whimper. 

"Draco, please..." She breathed. "Don't tease me."

He chuckled, not saying anything in response. He was enjoying this, enjoying her begging. 

Kisses and love bites continued at the inside of her left knee; Hermione lifted herself up to him but he took his time. She ran her hands over her breasts, pinching her own nipples. She cupped her breasts just like he does, fondling the areola with my thumb.

He breathed out against her, kissing, and then letting his teeth brush against her clit. She bit her lip, trying to avoid crying out in pleasure, but failed. She could feel him let out a small laugh against her. 

Her knees came together, lifting herself up to his mouth. Pleasure blossomed from her hands, his mouth, and the cold air brushing against all her bare skin. He kept going until she was bucking, almost there, then his was back on her nipples.

"Should I keep going, magnifique?" He smirked, coming up to her face, their noses centimeters apart. 

"Please." She breathed, needing his touch. The smooth French that occasionally rolled out of his mouth made the knot in her stomach tighten. 

He obeyed, kissing, biting her bottom lip before she bit his. Tongues curling together, their hands entangled in each other's hair. He kissed her belly button, placing love bites on each rib back up to her nipple. When her eyes closed it all blurred together, the wetness of his lips cooling her burning skin down. She jerked back into reality when his tongue licked up between her lips to my clit, making her back arch and a cry escape her throat.

"Fuck, Draco." She groaned. 

"Does that feel good?" He chuckled. 

"Y-yes." She moaned. 

"Vous avez l'air aussi beau que vous le souhaitez. Je vais te ruiner avec ma bouche. (You look as good as you taste. I'm going to ruin you with my mouth.)" He responded softly, seductively. 

His nails dragged down her back and over her ass. The scratches burned like fire and he did it again. Hermione pulled at her nipples, licking her lips and squeezing her eyes shut. His tongue delicately swirled around her clit, causing her entire body to prickle in sexual delight. 

She clutched onto his hair harder, causing him to moan softly between her legs. Her thighs began to shake as his licking and sucking sped up. 

A finger found it's way up between her cheeks, pushing up inside of her as she came. She shuddered, fucking his face and almost blacking out with pleasure. White light exploded within her vision as the inside of her body exploded in fireworks. 

He was breathing heavily, head against her chest when she opened her eyes again. She stroked his now, messy pale blond hair and bit back a smile. Why did she feel so complete when she was practically as broken and bruised as he was? Why did she never want him to leave? Did she want to stay? She wanted to stay like this forever, but how could she be okay in a place where she was far from it every time she stepped inside? 

The Manor held awful memories, how could she and him be happy in a place like this? It almost felt like a sin, being so comfortable and happy, in a place that only wanted to cause despair.

Draco got up, licking his lips and raking a hand through his hair. "You were lovely, mon chéri. (My darling)." 

Hermione propped herself on her elbows and titled her head, eyebrows mending together in puzzlement. 

"What?" He laughed. 

"Don't you need something too?" She arched an eyebrow. 

"Like what?" He smiled and put a knuckle to his lips, amusement taking over.

"You gave me release, you should get it too." She replied. 

He snorted and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hermione, you need to learn that I'm a man of giving, I don't expect much in return." 

"But it's not fair. You should receive after giving." She sat up, pulling the duvet over her bare chest.

"I want to make you feel good. Making you feel good makes me feel good. Plus, I have my hand and the thought of you, so I promise I'll be okay." He tried biting back a smile, but failed. 

"But–" 

"Goodnight, Hermione." He turned away from her, straightening his fancy clothing. 

"Draco, let me–"

"Goodnight. I'll be here in the morning to wake you up." He made his way to the door. She couldn't see his face, but knew he was grinning.

"Draco, wait!" Hermione raised her voice as he almost shut the door behind him. He stopped abruptly. 

"Yes?" He turned, peeking inside, his eyes flickered at the sight of her draped in the emerald duvet. 

"You really should let me–"

"Shut up." He laughed. "Get to sleep."

"Wait, please." 

He sighed and opened the door, leaning against the frame. 

"Hermione Jean Granger, what could you possibly need now?" 

Hermione's lips curved upwards as she heard his playfully exasperated response. 

"Thank you." She mumbled.

"Hm?" He cupped his ear, signaling that he hadn't heard her. 

"Thank you, for you know, taking care of me." She spoke up, finding herself fumbling with her fingers. 

"You're welcome." He smiled. "Now please, get some sleep, we both need it." 

"Will do." She smiled back. He winked and turned around, shutting the door behind him.

Draco reached his room, exhaling loudly as he undressed himself and slipped into his massive, oversized black and sliver bed and studied the ceiling. He felt something he had never felt before. Every time he was around Hermione, something inside of him lit up, something that hadn’t been lit before. 

He sighed, exhausted about the previous events that had taken place that night. He would’ve called it a good day, if Estelle didn’t decide to show up. However, she was easily forgotten; easy to bury in the back of his mind. 

He closed his eyes, and smiled faintly to himself, going to bed with the thought of how Hermione’s skin smells of vintage books and pale moonlight, exotic things, forbidden loves and rainy nights.


	23. Chapter 23

Hermione couldn't sleep. Her mind raced with thoughts about Draco. How could someone like her, make someone like him happy? She was just brains, her looks were average, but he looked like a deity – the perfect balance of danger and charm, he was at the same time fascinating and inaccessible, distant because of his demonstrated flawlessness, and possessing such strength of character that he was dismaying and at the same time utterly attractive in an enticing and forbidden way. He was everything anyone could want, she wasn't. She was pregnant with her previous lover's child, and he still couldn't take his eyes off of her. 

She blinked slowly, staring up at the night sky through the glass ceiling. The stars twinkled in the sky. Hermione smiled faintly as she watched a shooting star fly by quickly. She wished she was that star. Free and far away. 

However, something held her back. Something deep down wanted her to stay here. Wanted her to be here and live happily with Draco. 

She hated listening to her body, she hated tuning into herself and her thoughts, because she knew her brain and heart would fight with each other. 

She liked Draco, she really liked Draco. But was it love? She was in love with Ron, and it never felt like this. She never had butterflies in here stomach when Ron touched her, her skin never burned with desire under his touch like it did with Draco. Was she never in love with Ron? Was this what it felt like to be in love? She was confused. Hermione didn't want to call it love, yet. 

She shivered as she pulled the duvet up to her chin. As much as she loved the library, it seemed as though it was cut off from the rest of the Manor. 

Unable to fall asleep due to lack of warmth, she sat up and slid out of the bed, walking slowly to the door as she wrapped her arms around her body, trying to keep warm. 

She slowly opened it, not wanting to make any noise, and tiptoed through the dark hallways. 

She felt around on the walls, sensing the directions as she felt around corners and dead ends. 

Finally, she noticed a door that was cracked slightly open. Draco's room. She had never been in his room before. 

She held her breath as she approached the door, too scared to knock. She didn't want to wake him up. He looked peaceful as he slept on his massive bed. His pale blond hair was messy, as strands of it hung in front of his face, with a hand underneath his cheek that rested elegantly on the satin pillowcase. 

"Yes, Hermione?" His groggy voice was deep with exhaustion and his eyes still closed. 

Hermione jumped a little, clutching her chest as he spoke. 

"I didn't know you were awake." She squeaked. 

"I wasn't, but I could sense someone in front of my door." He sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "What do you need?" 

Hermione nervously twirled a strand of her curly hair between her fingers as she struggled to respond. "Well, I–" She exhaled loudly, running a hand through her hair. "The library is kind of chilly. I don't have my wand, and I was wondering if you'd cast a warming charm or something in it." 

Draco rubbed his eyes again and lifted his covers, beckoning her over. 

"What?" She tilted her head. 

"I'm not walking all the way across the Manor just to cast a warming charm on it. You can sleep with me for the night instead." He yawned.

"I really don't think I should..." Hermione looked down at her bare feet. 

"Come here." He stated, almost threateningly. 

"No, it's fine." She smiled reassuringly. "If I stay under the comforter long enough, it will warm up. Thank you though." 

Hermione let go of the doorknob that she hadn't realized she'd been squeezing hard until now. She went and turned, walking back down the hall. 

She heard footsteps behind her, but before she could turn around, Draco had grabbed her around her waist, and carried her back into his room, throwing her onto his bed. 

"Draco, I–"

"Goodnight, Granger." He said, climbing into bed next to her. 

"I really shouldn't–"

"Why? We've seen each other naked, we've had sex, but sleeping in the same bed is drawing the line?" Draco sat up, his eyebrows furrowed as he spoke to Hermione. 

Hermione looked away, trying to avoid his piercing gaze. Even in the dark, she could still see the grey irises.

"Why me, Draco?" She whispered. 

"I've already told you why, Hermione." He sighed. 

"But if I never showed up, would you still feel this way about me? Or would you still hate me?"

Draco was staring at her, too intently for comfort. "I don't know why certain people shine for others. I don't know why you and not someone else." He gently pulled her forward and whispered, "But it's you I think of when I wake each morning. It's your face in my dreams."

Hermione swallowed. That would seem odd even if he were normal. And he wasn't. What he was, unfortunately, was completely serious.

Draco smiled, seeing the look on Hermione's face amused him. "It's late. Lay down and relax." He chuckled. "I won't touch you unless you want me to." 

Draco pulled the duvet over himself and Hermione, but before he could lay down, she grabbed his wrist, reacting before thinking. 

"Touch me. Please touch me." She breathed. "You make me feel safe when you touch me. I don't know why, and I know you shouldn't, considering our past, but please, dear god, hold me." Her eyes widened, only now realizing the words that had poured from her mouth. She sounded desperate. Was she? Was she so starved and deprived of touch and affection, that she wanted Draco to embrace her tightly, all the time? She wanted to be around him constantly. Every time he was around her, she felt like her depressing world lit up just a little bit, but she had to hold back. She had to make sure she didn't scare him off with her feelings. 

Draco's eyebrows raised to his hairline. He blinked at her. She blinked back. Their blinks almost resembled Morse code as they wordlessly stared at each other. 

Without a word, Draco scooped her up into his arms, his embrace tight and safe. Hermione gasped quietly in surprise at the sudden action. 

"If you want to be touched, I'll touch you, Hermione." He kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him, the corners of his lips curved slightly upwards. 

Deep down, Hermione was scared. She could feel her feelings for Draco grow every second she was around him, but she was scared he didn't feel the same way. She was scared that the words that fell from his perfect mouth were all lies. She was afraid that he only felt this way because he was lonely, because he just wanted company, not a lover. He was desire, and she was his prisoner, chained up by his kisses. Submissive to his touch.

A shooting pain in her leg pulled her out of her thoughts. She winced silently, not wanting to draw attention to herself, or worry Draco. She thought it odd, because her leg hadn't hurt in days. She frowned at the thought that she still wasn't healed completely. Draco had yet to keep his promise of healing her. Maybe it was because the last few days have been so busy, it distracted her and him from her injuries. 

"Draco, be honest, please tell me why you decided to take me in?" She rested her head against his chest, the comforting sound of his heartbeat putting her at ease. 

"You really think I'd leave you to rot on my doorstep?" He snorted. 

"Well, I would think so, considering how much we loathed each other." She shrugged. 

"I never really hated you, Granger. I've already told you that. To be honest, you showing up in front of the Manor was one of the best things I could have asked for. I wasn't expecting it, but maybe the universe was telling us something." He stroked her hair, and she closed her eyes slowly. She was exhausted. 

"Like what?" She whispered, eyes still closed.

Draco swallowed and nibbled on his bottom lip. He didn't want to tell her that as soon as he saw her, he wanted to stay away from her, but she had him magnetized. He didn't want to tell her that being with her made him feel like he's been starving for so long. Hermione had given him a taste of something he didn't know he wanted. Something he was now desperate for. Her.

"Well..." He rested his head on top of hers. "Like maybe we had more in common than we thought we had. Maybe the position of the stars wanted us to see each other, feel each other, after everything that had happened five years ago. Maybe the universe just wanted us to know what love actually feels like. What being alive is meant to feel like." 

It was quiet. Draco looked down and saw Hermione fast asleep against him. She hadn't heard a thing. Draco snorted. "I want you to stay so fucking bad, Granger. I wish I had known you sooner, been with you sooner. I wish that child you're carrying was mine. I wish you'd realize how bad I want us to be a family." He kissed the top of her head again, and gently lowered himself down with Hermione still leaning against his chest, careful not to wake her. "I hope you decide soon, and I hope it's the decision I'm hoping for." 

Unable to fall back asleep, Draco grabbed a book from his end table, reading it as he could feel Hermione's soft breath against the fabric of his shirt. 

-

Hermione felt her stomach drop as she didn't recognize her surroundings. She sat up quickly and clutched her chest as she sighed in relief. She had forgotten that she was in Draco's room. She had been so used to the library that any other room looked foreign to her.

She slid out of Draco's bed and quietly made her way back to the library to change. The rows and aisles of books made her smile. 

She quickly put on an oversized t shirt and some shorts, nothing too fancy, as she didn't see herself going anywhere. 

With a yawn and a stretch, she walked downstairs, catching a glimpse of Draco once again, scribbling in the same notebook he always did. His legs were crossed in an elegant and gentlemanly way and his reading glasses hung on the bridge of his nose. He tapped the quill against the paper and pushed the glasses back up his nose. He was too focused to notice Hermione walking down the stairs, but it didn't bother her. She didn't want to disturb him. 

He was in a dark emerald turtleneck, with the sleeves rolled up half way, stopping at his elbows. His grey khaki pants complemented it, and his black suede loafers tied the whole outfit together. He looked good, like sin in a suit. Who knew sin could be such a virtue? 

Deep in her thoughts, Hermione tripped over the last step, causing her to stumble over her feet. She grabbed onto the railing quickly before she fell. Draco's eyes flickered up behind his glasses, unfazed. 

"A little excited this morning, are we, Granger?" He asked, writing in the notebook, too busy to look at her. 

She pushed her hair out of her face and let go of the railing, slowly and carefully stepping off of the last step. "I was just–" 

"In your own little world, I know." He snorted. "Come sit." He patted the spot next to him.

Hermione slowly made her way to the sofa, not wanting to trip or stumble again. 

She sat down and leaned into the couch, staring at Draco as he still didn't take his eyes away from the notebook. 

The silvery aura from the big windows fell across his face, lighting a translucent, pale fire in his grey eyes. However, it was barely noticeable due to the glare of his glasses. She could identify no telltale trace of humor or mockery in his features. There was simply his austere male beauty, that sullen perfection marred only by a tiny scar across his left eyebrow, which showed more clearly in the thin spring light. She guessed it must've been one of the many he had from the torture in France. She had never noticed it before. But she loved it. It just reminded her that they were both far from flawless, no matter how attractive they thought they were. 

But God, he was utterly and appallingly beautiful, in the way the gleaming steel blossoms of murder and mayhem adorning the walls of the great hall were beautiful.

He must've noticed her staring, because he blinked slowly and turned to her, finally taking his eyes away from the notebook. Their gazes met. The grey eyes that regarded her were as deep and subtle and light-tricked as smoke from a wildfire. The face belonged to an archangel from the shadows: a cool, sulky mouth and an aquiline profile, and Satan's own intelligence in the assessing look he gave her.

"Yes?" He raised an eyebrow, his glasses falling down the bridge of his nose as his eyes looked over them. 

"N-nothing." Hermione shook her head and pulled away from his gaze. 

Draco blinked at her at then turned back to the book, scribbling away. "If you want something to do, why don't you bring a book or something down here?" 

"What are you doing in that one?" Hermione asked. "Is it part of your work or something?" 

Draco placed the quill between his teeth and rolled up his sleeves, which had fallen to his forearm. His scarred dark mark staring back at Hermione. It was hard to avoid looking at it. She had forgotten he had been one of them. 

He took the quill out of his mouth and set it in the book as a bookmark and closed it. "It's just something I like to do in my free time, Hermione." 

"Scribbling away in a notebook?" She snorted. 

"I wouldn't necessarily call it scribbling, but sure." He chuckled. 

"Is it like a diary or something?" 

"No." 

"Then what is it?" 

"A notebook. Simple as that. Why has it caught your attention all of a sudden?" Draco's voice had become a little defensive, almost stern. 

Hermione glanced around the sitting room nervously, trying to avoid his stern gaze. Her eyes shifted to one of the windows. The roses were still the royal blue color that Draco had turned them to. They looked really lovely against the cloudy spring sky. 

"The roses..." She spoke up, trying to change the subject. "They're still blue." 

Draco turned his body towards the window Hermione had been staring at. "They aren't supposed to turn back. Once you turn them a certain color, they stay that way until you decide on another one." 

"Oh." She uttered. "They still look beautiful." 

"Do they?" He laughed. "I'm glad."


	24. Chapter 24

"We can go outside if you want." Draco suggested. 

"I could use some fresh air." Hermione shrugged. 

Draco took off his reading glasses, folding them neatly on the side table next to him. He stood up and held out his hand to Hermione, who grabbed it as he pulled her up from the sofa. 

They walked outside, the smell of rain that hadn't yet come, filled Hermione's senses. It was mixed with the heavily floral scent of the roses, which made it even better. 

As they began walking around the Manor together, Draco cleared his throat. 

"I lifted the enchantments. You don't need me to go outside with you anymore." 

Hermione looked away from the ground and up at Draco, who looked down at her, stone faced. 

"Well, I don't mind taking walks with you. It's better than being alone." She replied. 

Draco bit on his knuckle, trying to stop himself from smiling. "Granger, I–"

"You switch between Granger and Hermione quite often." She interrupted. "Why?"

Draco's eyebrows jumped to his hairline at her sudden response. "Well, I don't know. I feel more comfortable calling you Granger, because that's what I've always called you, but I think Hermione is more respectful, considering our relationship now, but it's hard to break old habits." 

"I don't mind what you call me, I was just curious." Hermione's gaze fell on the hedges and rose bushes that decorated the outside of the Manor. It looked a lot more lively since she had been here. A lot more colorful. She wondered why. 

Hermione wondered about a lot of things. She was always curious, always wanting answers for things that seemed so minuscule to most people. She had always questioned why most people didn't care about the world around them, why they didn't want answers for all the tiny things in life. 

Hermione's eyes wandered from the hedges and flowers, to Draco's exposed dark mark. She inhaled deeply. It always surprised her a little bit, because this man was not the same Death Eater boy she despised. He was gentle, soft, the opposite of his parents and friends. 

"Does it ever hurt?" She asked, breaking the silence between them. 

Draco looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "What are you taking about?" 

Hermione pointed to his mark. "Does it ever hurt?" She repeated. 

Draco quickly pulled down his sleeves, covering the mark. "It doesn't burn like it used to, but the scarring from the torture I endured in France does sometimes. I'm pretty sure it has a curse or something imbedded in the injuries." 

"Oh. Have you seen a healer for it?" 

"No." 

"Why not?" 

"Because when it does hurt, I'm reminded of what I had done. It's almost like a self punishment. I think I deserve it, you know? It reminds me that maybe if I hadn't done the things I did in our youth, I wouldn't have it. The pain just tells me I did this to myself." He swallowed thickly. 

Hermione clung onto his arm as they walked, her leg becoming sore. It struck her as odd. Why was her leg bothering her so much lately? She shook the thought from her head, continuing to walk along side Draco. 

"I don't think you deserve pain, Draco." Hermione looked up at him. "You definitely shouldn't think so either." 

Draco bit his lip as he looked back down at Hermione. She was beautiful the way fire and sunlight were beautiful, warm and glowing and golden. The sight of here dealt him a famished, hollow feeling. She was everything he'd missed in his disadvantaged youth, every lost hope and opportunity.

"I can't win an argument with you, can I?" He laughed. 

"I mean, you probably can, you just won't try." Hermione chuckled. 

A wave of silence washed over them again, the only noise came from their feet as they walked along the cobblestone. 

"You really have a sense of style you know." Hermione said, breaking the silence. 

Draco chuckled. "What's the supposed to mean?" 

"I mean, you know, you had to have given Blimbey some idea of what to get me for my wardrobe. And everything in that dresser is absolutely gorgeous. Even the casual things are expensive looking." She laughed. 

"I gave her some ideas, but not much. I just let her do her thing." He smiled, wrapping an arm around Hermione, pulling her closer to him as they walked. 

Hermione felt her body burn. Every time he touched her, it was like millions of tiny universes being born and then dying in the space between his fingers and her skin. It felt so nice to feel like that. This was something she never felt with Ron, and she enjoyed it. 

"You treat Blimbey a lot different than your father treated Dobby." She uttered. 

"Well, I'm not my father." He shrugged. "He sees house elves as objects, not living things. I try to do my best to help my elf whenever I can. She was with me when no one else was."

"I think it's lovely, Draco." Hermione leaned into him. 

"Do you?" He snorted. 

"Yes, I do." She smiled. 

As they walked in silence again, Hermione could feel raindrops litter her skin. It was raining. 

"Let's get inside. I don't want us both getting soaked." Draco spoke, grabbing Hermione's hand and leading her back inside the Manor. 

"I liked that." She bit her lip subconsciously, watching him shut the front door and made her way to the sofa, Draco following close behind her. 

"Me too." He licked his lips, preventing a smile from forming.

They gazed at each other for a moment. Hermione could feel her stomach grow butterflies again. How was it that just him looking at her, made her absolutely insane? Her cheeks felt like they were on fire, she felt her forehead, wanting to make sure she wasn't running a fever. 

His beauty was a never ending theme. It was always the reason she felt flustered and unfocused. His face might've been carved by a Greek sculptor, so perfect were his cheekbones, lips, and nose. His eyes were of the clearest cadet grey. His hair was the color of soft beach sand and always neatly done. His grace and elegance was urbane male sophistication personified. He was everything Hermione wasn't. There was absolutely no way he really felt something towards her.

Draco bit his knuckle, trying not to smile. Watching Hermione fluster in front of him amused him. He loved when she was hot and bothered. All he had to do was look at her, and she would be gone. This wasn't a crush, it wasn't a temporary fondness, it was an obsession. She was never not in his thoughts. Her scent would carry across a room and paralyze him with longing. He wanted to have those long, late night conversations with her, he wanted to kiss her forehead in public, but kiss her bare body in private. He wanted to breath in her scent every morning, complain about work to each other every day. He wanted to see her child grow up and her grow old with him. 

However, part of him wanted to set her on fire and hold her while the flame consumed them both, to eat her heart so he would know that only he possessed it entirely. God, he wanted her so bad, and he knew she was holding back. But that wasn't going to stop him from trying to do anything to make her stay. 

"You haven't eaten yet have you?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

Hermione pressed her lips together and blinked at him. "W-well, no, but–"

Draco facepalmed. "Am I going to have to remind you everyday?" 

"Well, I don't have much of an appetite in the mornings." She shrugged, a pool of guilt gathering in her stomach. 

Without a word, Draco grabbed her hand, and dragged her to the kitchen. 

He reached in the cupboard and handed her a small bag of crisps. "Here. It's not gourmet, but it will at least get something in your stomach." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear, if my mother found out I wasn't feeding a pregnant witch, she'd go mad." 

"Your mother could care less about me. I'm a mudblood, remember?" Hermione snorted, opening the bag of crisps, and eating them. 

Draco visibly cringed as the word poured from Hermione's mouth. 

"After the war, my mother's stance on blood purity changed. So had my father's, believe it or not." 

"I highly doubt your father's opinion has changed much." Hermione said through a mouthful of crisps. 

"Me neither. That's just what he had told me." Draco laughed. 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, causing Draco and Hermione to jump. Hermione clutched her chest looking at Draco wide eyed. 

"Were you expecting anyone?" She breathed.

Draco's eyes glanced over to the door, his expression just as confused as Hermione's. "No. I never am."

Draco walked defensively out of the kitchen and approached the door, Hermione followed, hanging onto the back of his shirt. He peered through the peephole, trying to get a peek of the person who stood outside the door. 

"It's not the Ministry, is it?" Hermione whispered. 

"Get upstairs." Draco demanded, his voice growing cold. It made Hermione's veins turn icy.

"Who is it, Draco?" Hermione could feel her chest tighten and her heart pound in her ears. 

"Get upstairs!" He barked. 

Hermione was taken aback by his sudden anger. She stared at him and frowned. 

"Please." He whispered, realizing his sudden outburst. "Just listen this once." 

"I'll be in the library then." She swallowed. 

"I'll come get you when I'm done." Draco replied. 

"Done with what?" Hermione made her way to the stairs, still staring at Draco, he swallowed. 

"I don't know yet. Go Hermione." He ordered.

"O-okay..." She uttered, hurrying up the stairs. 

She walked quickly to the library, wanting to read and distract herself from the anxiety that was pooling in her chest. It was best not to get on Draco's nerves again. 

As he heard the library door shut, he exhaled loudly, before opening the door. 

"Didn't I tell you I'd kill you if you showed up again, Estelle?"

"Draco!" She exclaimed, throwing herself at him, hugging him tightly. 

"Get off of me!" He shoved her off, causing her to stumble back. "I don't want you here. You're lucky I'm not disposing of you right now."

"I just wanted to apologize." She pouted. Her thick French accent made Draco sick to his stomach. He hated this woman. He had caused her so much pain, that just the sight of her made him want to throw up. 

"An apology?" He raised his eyebrows. "You insulted someone I care about, an apology will not fix anything." 

"You care about her?!" She gasped. "She is nothing compared to me! She is far from your type! Why would you want someone like her?!" 

Draco glared at her. Estelle didn't know that every time he looked at Hermione, his breathing would hitch. She didn't know that every time Hermione spoke, he would listen to every single word he could. Estelle didn't know that he would do absolutely anything for Hermione. She couldn't see through Draco's mind, to which he was thankful for. 

"That's none of your business, Estelle." He replied coldly. 

"Why do you hate me, Draco?" She folded her arms to her chest, her eyes shining with tears. 

Draco looked disdainfully at her. "Everything with me is either worship and passion or pity and understanding. I hate rarely, though when I hate, I hate murderously. For example now, I hate France and everything connected with it. I also hate rude women, parties, and cold rainy weather. But I am much more preoccupied with loving." 

"You used to love me." She whispered. 

"I never loved you. I could never fall in love with the same person who tortured me." He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Please." She rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively. "It was my job."

"Who taught you to write in blood on my back? Who taught you to use your hands as branding irons? You have scored your name into my shoulders, referenced me with your mark. The pads of your fingers have become daggers, you stabbed a message onto my skin and scarred it into my body. Leave." He ordered calmly, but his voice was laced with venom. 

"No!" Estelle drew her wand and tilted Draco's chin up, despite being a few inches shorter than him. 

Draco grabbed her wrist, crushing it in his grasp. She gasped and hissed in pain, pulling it quickly away.

"You will not threaten me in my own home." He growled. 

"I wish I killed you." She spat. 

"I wish you did." He replied, his face expressionless. "Death doesn't scare me, Estelle. I have other things to worry about." He glanced sideways at the staircase. 

Estelle's lips twisted into a disgusted expression. 

"I helped you when no one else would!" 

"Wanting sex in return of not torturing me isn't helping!" He barked. 

Hermione held the book tightly, her knuckles turning white. She couldn't focus on the words in front of her. She was too anxious about who Draco looked so angry to see. She hadn't noticed that the library blocked outside noise. It made her even more nervous knowing she had no clue what was going on downstairs.

She had been reading the same sentence for the past five minutes. She couldn't go further than that. She didn't want to distract herself and get lost in her own world when Draco was doing whatever he was doing downstairs. What if he was in danger? What if it really was the Ministry and they found him? What if they took him, and she was just sitting here, doing absolutely nothing to help him? 

But why did she care? A month ago, she would've gladly liked to see Draco being dragged out of the Manor by the Ministry. She would've loved to see him locked up in Azkaban, so why didn't she want to now? Why did she want to be next to him everywhere he went? They kissed, they had sex, was that love? But if it was love, why would she be so doubtful?

Hermione dropped the book at the floor, its pages sprawled out of the binding. She didn't want to read. She wanted to know what Draco was doing. If Ron was here he would've thought she had gone mad. But Hermione was glad Ron wasn't here. She was glad he couldn't see her debate her feelings towards her childhood bully. 

No longer wanting to just sit and do anything, Hermione got up out of the bed and tiptoed to the door, silently opening it, hoping it didn't make noise as she did. 

She held her breath as she walked slowly down the hall. She peeked around the corner and over the banister. Her heart dropped. 

The entire sitting room had been trashed. Vases were broken, the sofa and arm chair had burn marks and slashes decorating them, and the wallpaper had been shredded. It was a mess, and Draco and Estelle stood in the middle of it. They looked murderous. Both of them had their wands at each other's throats, but they didn't move. Hermione could see their shoulders move up and down as they were breathing heavily. 

Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Hermione moved quietly forward, peeking through the bars of the banister, to stay somewhat hidden.

"Estelle..." Draco said through clenched teeth. "If you try anything funny, I will make sure you rot near my rose bushes." He smirked. "You'd make good fertilizer." 

"Si je meurs, tu viens avec moi. (If I die, you are coming with me.)" She spat. 

"j'en doute vraiment. (I highly doubt that.)" He chuckled.

Wanting to get a closer look, Hermione carefully stood up, peeking over the railing of the banister. 

They continued speaking in French to each other. Hermione studied intently, but barely understood anything that came from their mouths. 

Suddenly, another sharp pain flared up in Hermione's thigh, causing her to gasp and shift her weight, the railing creaking in response. 

Draco's and Estelle's heads both snapped in her direction. 

Without hesitation, Estelle aimed her wand at Hermione and yelled, "Crucio!" 

Unable to move due to the searing pain in her leg, the curse hit her square in the chest. 

"Hermione!" Draco screamed, running up the stairs as fast as he could. 

Hermione's nerves lit up and flared. Her blood felt like it had turned to molten lava as it paved through her veins. White-hot knives were piercing every inch of her skin, and her head felt like it would burst due to the pain. She cried out in agony, as it made her way throughout her body.

Draco held her close as she shrieked in pain. 

"Stop protecting her!" Estelle boomed. 

"You made a mistake, Estelle!" Draco's voice shook with anger and worry. "I should've done this when I opened the damn door!" 

Still holding Hermione close, Draco pointed his wand at Estelle, and yelled, "Sectumsempra!" 

A white light flashed from his wand and hit Estelle, lacerating her body into pieces. Blood covered the walls, and the furniture as her corpse fell to the ground. 

The pain in Hermione's body ceased. She gasped, not being able to catch her breath during the duration of the curse. 

Draco's eyebrows furrowed with worry. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah." She breathed. 

"You could've gotten yourself killed!" He scolded. "Why didn't you just stay in the library? Do you ever listen to anything I say?" 

"I'm sorry." Hermione whispered. Her body slightly twitched as it tried to recuperate from the torture. "I was worried. I wanted to know if you were okay." 

"I'm capable of taking care of myself, Hermione." Draco swallowed. "I could've lost you." 

"One less person to worry about." She said. 

"You're the only one I care about, dammit!" Draco's eyes filled with tears. "If you had died, I would make sure no one else deserved to live. How dare you think your life is worth less than mine? How dare you think someone like you is replaceable?" 

"Draco, don't say things you don't mean." Hermione said weakly. 

"I mean everything I say! When will you get that through your head?!" 

Hermione looked away from his disappointed gaze. 

"Is our– I mean, is the baby okay?" He asked. 

Hermione felt her stomach. "I don't know." 

"I'll call Ms. Frium." He said, carrying Hermione to the library and gently laying her on the bed. "She'll do an assessment on you." 

"Draco, I'm sorry." Hermione could feel her eyes prick with tears. 

"Sorry for almost getting yourself killed? Apology not accepted." He said, walking out of the library, and shutting the door behind him.


	25. Chapter 25

Hermione stared at the glass ceiling, watching the raindrops fall from the cloudy sky and land on it. She was an idiot. What if something did happen to the baby? It would've been all her fault. She should've just listened to Draco. She should've just stayed in the library like she was told.

Her body stung. It hurt everywhere. She was sore. She considered it a punishment. She put herself in this situation. She felt betrayed and absolutely livid with herself. 

She couldn't get the image of Draco's face out of her mind as he held her when she was being tortured. He looked so hurt. It looked as if he were the one struck with the curse and not Hermione. It hurt to see him like that. 

Draco sat on the now mended couch. Blimbey had cleaned the room fairly quickly. The room was so clean, no one would have been able to tell there had been a dead body spurting blood everywhere a moment ago.

His mind went back to the moment Hermione was struck. The cries of her in agony rang through his ears still. He never wanted to hear that again. He wanted to do anything he could to never have to see her in that much pain again. 

He remembered holding her, her body trembling in his arms as the curse finally lifted. He hated seeing her like that. He hated that she put herself in harms way. He wanted to scold her, yell at her, scream at her for being so stupid, for not listening to him. But seeing her in so much agony, stopped him from doing so. Instead, he wanted to comfort her, hold her tighter, kiss her better. 

Her eyes had been shut tight during the duration of the curse, but the second she opened her eyes and looked at him, he knew. She was either going to be the death of him, or she was going to be the one who finally brought him back to life. And she was doing a bit of both to him at that very moment.

A knock at the door startled Draco from his thoughts. He raked a frustrated and shaky hand through his hair, as he stood up and made his way to the door, opening it with a fake smile. 

"Ms. Frium." He greeted. "I'm grateful you could make it on such short notice."

"Oh," She waved a dismissive hand, waddling into the squeaky clean Manor. "It's my job, dear. How is she?" 

"I think she's okay, or at least, I hope so. She seemed a bit weak." Draco bit his lip nervously. 

"I'll patch her up, dont worry." Ms. Frium assured him, a warm smile across her face. "Where is she?"

"Upstairs, to your left. In the library." Draco replied. 

"The library?" Ms. Frium's brows furrowed. 

"Yeah, that's where she sleeps." Draco's face matched her confused one. 

"You let a pregnant witch sleep in a library?!" She exclaimed. "You can't give her a normal bedroom?"

"It is her bedroom!" Draco defended. "She loves to be in there. She had me move her bed in there."

Ms. Frium shook her head and waved a stern finger at Draco. "If your mother was here–" 

"I know." Draco groaned. "She'd kill me. I know." 

"You stay down here. I'll go and see what I can do for her." Ms. Frium said, waddling towards the stairs. 

"And why can't I come?" Draco raised an eyebrow. 

"Because I said so. Girls only!" She retorted, walking up the staircase. 

Draco scoffed and flopped back down on the sofa. He wanted to be with Hermione while she was being taken care of. He raked a hand through his hair again, ruffing it up. He was supposed to be the one caring for her, not the healer. 

He sighed and grabbed the notebook off of the side table and put on his reading glasses, hoping that time would pass by quicker if he were occupied. 

Hermione picked up the book she had dropped on the floor earlier and frowned. The pages had been creased and wrinkled. She traced her fingers along the spine of the book and sighed. It had been broken. She had ruined a perfectly good book. It seemed like she was ruining a lot of perfectly good things lately. 

Hermione jumped a little as the library door opened. She clutched the book tightly to her chest as she sighed in relief at the sight of Ms. Frium. 

"Hello dear." She smiled. "Draco told me what had happened." 

"Where is he?" Hermione asked softly. "Is he okay?" 

"Yes, he's fine." She waddled her way over to Hermione's bedside. "However, I believe it was you who were struck with the cruciatus curse, not him." 

Hermione flushed red in response. Even when she was in pain and hurt, she still asked about Draco and his safety. Did she really care about him that much? 

"Sorry." Hermione squeaked. 

"Don't worry about it." Ms. Frium assured warmly. "Highly sensitive people are too often perceived as weaklings or damaged goods. To feel intensely is not a symptom of weakness, it is the trademark of the truly alive and compassionate. There is no shame in expressing your authentic feelings. Those who are at times described as being a 'hot mess' or having 'too many issues' are the very fabric of what keeps the dream alive for a more caring, humane world. Never be ashamed to let your tears shine a light in this world."

Hermione smiled. She really liked Ms. Frium. She seemed to care a lot about her patients, even the ones she barely knew. 

Hermione had considered being a Healer before, but she had decided against it. Her heart wouldn't have been able to take it. She'd feel for every single patient that landed in front of her. Her heart would take over her brain. 

Ms. Frium felt all over Hermione's body, checking for any injuries the curse may have caused. 

"It's a good thing that you care about Draco. He needs it. The poor man barely cares about himself, it's very lovely that he now has someone like you to remind him to breath." She said, fumbling in her brown suitcase, and pulling out her wand. "It is an absolute human certainty that no one would know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being. And you, my dear, are his perfect match." 

Hermione couldn't help but smile at those words. She felt her body heat up. Was she really a perfect match for him? They were on two opposite ends of the spectrum. She was a rose, but he was the thorns. 

"I mean, I'm pretty sure there are much better women he has met." Hermione said softly. 

"He isn't a womanizer, dear. When Malfoy has his heart set on someone, he doesn't let them out of his sight. I have never seen him act this way towards a woman before." Ms. Frium gestured for Hermione to lay back onto the bed, she obeyed, staring at the ceiling as the healer flicked her wand, muttering an incantation Hermione couldn't make out. 

A bright, yellow light filled the room. Hermione squinted in response. 

"What do you mean?" Hermione bit her lip nervously. She was afraid the healer thought the way Draco had been acting towards her was a bad thing. 

"He is head over heels for you." The healer replied. 

Hermione furrowed her brows. Head over heels? For her? Surely, that was a mistake. There was absolutely no way Draco Malfoy would be in love with her. She was a mudblood. He was a Malfoy. As much as she really wanted him to like her, she doubted his feelings were authentic towards her. 

"Oh my!" Ms. Frium exclaimed, shaking Hermione from her thoughts. 

"What?" Hermione could feel her heart rate speed up. "Is something wrong?"

"No, quite the opposite!" She replied. "If I were to be truthful, I wasn't expecting the baby to have made it, but she looks healthier than when I saw you last time. It's very rare that an unborn wizard, or witch, in this case, survives something as brutal as the cruciatus curse. You're one of the lucky few." 

Hermione exhaled a breath of relief, but for some reason, a part of her was disappointed. She couldn't understand why, or how, but she felt some regret in herself.

"I'm surprised you look this good after being tortured. Have you been struck with the curse before?" 

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. Her mind flooded with memories of the war and what had happened five years ago in this exact house. 

"I was struck with the curse by Bellatrix five years ago, when you know..." She swallowed thickly. "She wanted answers from me, and of course, I wouldn't give them to her, so she tortured me for a while." 

"Well, your body is remarkable. It seems as though you have a shield around it. It looks almost like a protection charm." 

"A protection charm?" Hermione sat up, confusion taking over. 

"Yeah. It's odd. You didn't have this before when I saw you last time..." Ms. Frium tapped her wand against her lips thoughtfully. 

"If I have a protection charm on me, why was I still struck by the curse?" Hermione looked up at the healer, her mind flooding with all sorts of questions. 

"It protects you from dying, not being injured, or in pain. You're still able to feel pain and get cut, but you can't die from it." She explained. 

"Oh..." Hermione breathed. 

"Let me reverse the effects of the curse, and you should be good to go, but please, try to stay out of danger. I can't guarantee the baby will survive another attack like this." She gently pushed Hermione back down on the bed, and flicked her wand. 

Suddenly, Hermione felt a lot better. The soreness and aches that were imbedded in her body disappeared. She was no longer in pain physically. She smiled. 

"All better, dear?" The healer smiled. 

"Yes, thank you." Hermione sat back up. 

"Good. Now, get some rest. If you need anything, let Draco know." She bent down and whispered in Hermione's ear, "If he gives you a hard time, I'll make sure he's put in his place." 

Hermione snorted. "Will do, Ms. Frium." 

"Good." She opened her suitcase back up and stuffed her wand back in it, shutting the clasps, and making her way back to the door. 

Before turning the knob, she turned back to Hermione, her signature warm smile spread across her face. "Like I said last time, Draco's trying. Give him a chance." 

Before Hermione could say anything, the healer opened the door and left, gently shutting it behind her. 

Hermione sighed and laid back down, frowning still at the book she had completely ruined by carelessly dropping it on the floor. She wondered if Draco would be upset that she had broke one of his books.

She looked up at the glass ceiling again. The rain had stopped, but it was still cloudy. She had always loved the rain. She liked walking through it when she was sad, because no one could see her tears. She liked to get soaked with raindrops, because it felt like her sins washed away. It was refreshing. Rain made her feel less alone. Hermione knew that all rain was, was a cloud- falling apart, and pouring its shattered pieces down on top of you. It made her feel good to know she wasn't the only thing that falls apart. It made her feel better to know other things in nature can shatter. 

Unlike Draco, she had a hard time covering up her emotions. She didn't know how he was able to keep a straight face when something awful happened to him. Her heart hurt. What had happened for him to look death in the face and not feel anything towards it? Was it the torture in France, or was it before that? Was it the war? 

The door of the library opened slowly, Draco's head peeked in. 

"Hello." Hermione greeted quietly, putting the destroyed book in her lap. 

Draco stepped in, softly closing the door behind him. He hadn't changed his attire. The emerald green turtleneck he wore was darker in some places, along with his grey pants that had been speckled with blood spots. Hermione felt her chest tighten. She didn't know if it was his blood, or if it had been Estelle's. 

"Hello." His lips curved almost into a smile, but dropped quickly. "I'm glad you're okay. Ms. Frium told me everything." 

"Are you okay?" She asked. He seemed nervous, worried. 

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, sitting on the edge of Hermione's bed. 

"You don't look okay." She said, crawling towards him, and sitting behind him. "Are you hurt?" 

Before he could answer, Hermione lifted his shirt. He was decorated in deep gashes and burns on his back. 

"Draco!" She gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth. 

"Granger, I'm fine." He said sternly. 

"Take off your shirt." She ignored his response, her voice turning as stern as his. 

"Granger, I–"

Before he could object, Hermione pulled his shirt over his head, her eyebrows furrowed in sadness as she scanned over his back. 

"She did a number on you." She breathed, tracing her fingers across the gashes. He hissed in response, causing her to quickly retract her fingers from his injuries. 

Until now, Hermione hadn't noticed how toned and muscular he was. His shoulder blades flexed as Hermione touched the cuts and burns. He was as beautiful from the back as he was in the front. Even when he was covered in cuts and bruises, he was still breathtaking. 

"Why didn't you have the healer heal you while she was here?" Hermione asked. 

"I'd rather her make sure you're okay than me." He replied. 

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. She hadn't used a wand in weeks, there was no way she'd be able to heal his injuries without messing it up. 

"Do you have a first aid kit?" She traced along the burns, causing Draco's back muscles to flex as he winced. 

"The house elf can help me with that. You don't need the extra stress." He replied. He turned his body to face Hermione. Her eyes flickered to his bare chest. It also had been covered in tiny slashes. "I came here to see you. Was Ms. Frium okay?"

"Yeah." Hermione rested her head against his chest. His heart beat was slow and rhythmic. It comforted her. She didn't want to tell Draco what the healer had told her about him. She didn't want to mention how she said Hermione was a perfect match for him, because they didn't seem like they were, at least, not to Hermione. 

"I'm glad." Draco wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. "She said that the baby was okay, which is rare in situations like this." 

"Yeah." Hermione mumbled. For some reason, something was eating at her on the inside. It was almost a dread, a guilt, it made her sick. 

"Can I be honest with you?" She asked, her voice slightly shaky with nerves. She fumbled with her fingers nervously. 

"I mean, I would hope so." Draco chuckled, as he stroked her hair. 

Hermione anxiously twirled a strand of hair around her finger, chewing on her bottom lip until she tasted blood in her mouth. 

"You're quiet..." Draco scooped Hermione's chin in his hand and tilted her face to meet his. His worried look turned stern. "You need to tell me what's bothering you, or else I can't help." 

"I don't think you can help, Draco." She tried to avoid his gaze, but he held her chin firmly in his hand. 

"Tell me." He demanded.

Hermione already regretted bringing it up, because she knew Draco wasn't going to let her leave the conversation without her speaking up about what was bothering her.

Her lip was bleeding from her subconsciously biting it. She didn't care. She couldn't feel much at the moment anyways. 

"Hermione, if you don't tell me, I'll just use leglilmency on you." He sighed. 

"I've gotten pretty good at occlumency, so that might be difficult for you." She replied. 

"Stop being a brat and tell me. You brought it up for a reason. What's bothering you?" He asked, frustration taking over in his voice.

Hermione sighed in defeat, knowing that there would be no way around it, and no way to avoid it. 

"I–" She inhaled deeply. "I don't think I would have been sad if the baby hadn't made it." Her voice was small and laced with guilt as the words rang through her ears. It sounded a lot worse out in the open than it had in her head. 

Something flickered in Draco's eyes, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. His eyebrows furrowed with concern. 

"What?" His voice came out raspy, distraught.

He was taken aback by Hermione's answer. Whatever he was expecting her to say, it wasn't that.

"Draco," Hermione sat up, crossing her legs and facing him. "Look at me, I'm a mess. I was foolish to think that I could care for another human being when I can barely take care of myself." Her eyes glazed over with tears. "How am I supposed to protect a child from danger, when it always seems to find me?"

"Gran– Hermione, this baby is the only thing you cared about when I took you in. You adored her." Draco tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

"Well, things change." Hermione could feel her tears spill from her eyes and slide down her cheeks. "This baby doesn't deserve me as a mum. I'm pathetic." 

Draco pressed his lips together and blinked hard, trying not to match Hermione's emotions. He had thought back to when he had first taken her in:

"For the brightest witch of your age, you sure are an idiot." 

"Pathetic." 

"Swallow it! Or are you too stupid to even do that?!" 

The memories stabbed him in the chest, a wave of regret washed over him. He had made her think this way. He had pushed and he pulled, tested boundaries, thinking she would never leave. He knew he was hurting her, but didn't know how to share anything but pain. He was only comfortable in chaos. Claiming souls before they could claim him. He had made her believe she was worthless. And it hurt. She didn't deserve to think like that. He wanted to make sure she knew how much she mattered to him and everyone else she knew. But Draco Malfoy didn't know how to love himself, so how the hell was he going to love her?


	26. Chapter 26

Draco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him, clutching her tightly, like he was afraid she'd disintegrate if he let her go. 

"You aren't pathetic, Granger. You aren't an idiot. You are the brightest witch of your age, the smartest one I know. Everything I said when I took you in was bullocks." He inhaled a shaky breath. 

"You don't need to apologize for saying the truth, Draco. I'm awful. This baby..." She wiped the tears from her cheeks. 

"This baby is what kept you going, Granger." Draco whispered, kissing the top of her head. 

Hermione closed her eyes and swallowed down a sob. This baby helped her cope when Draco took her in at first, but now, she couldn't help but feel like it was almost a burden, because how was a Malfoy supposed to fall in love with someone who was carrying a Weasley? She wanted so desperately for Draco to really love her, but how would that be possible when she was pregnant with the opposite of a Malfoy? 

"It sounds demented, but maybe..." She gulped. It was going to sound even worse aloud. "Maybe this baby should've died along with Ron."

Draco clutched onto Hermione tighter, his eyes welling up with tears that he quickly blinked away. "I don't think you mean that." 

Hermione couldn't hold back her tears anymore. She bursted out in sobs and wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, crying on his shoulder. "I can't do this, Draco. I can't be responsible for a child. Ron's gone, it's just me. This baby will have no father, and a mother who is debating on keeping her or not."

"Hermione..." He whispered in her hair. "It's not just you. You have Harry, Ginny, the entire Weasley family..." He swallowed thickly, nuzzling his face further in her unmanageable and untamable hair, taking in its scent. Her hair always smelled like fresh rain and roses. He loved it. He never knew he'd have a favorite smell, but the world worked in mysterious ways. 

He looked up at the glass ceiling. The clouds had gone, leaving behind a bright, blue sky. He bit his lip. 

Draco wanted Hermione to know how much he wanted her to stay, how much he wanted to care for her, how much he just wanted to hold her close for all of eternity, but he was scared. He was afraid that maybe all of this was too soon. He had never felt this way for someone before, and it was hard to express something he had never felt. 

He wanted her the way he wanted to breathe the spring air. He had never loved anyone before, at least, he thought this was love. He had not known even what this feeling for her was. 

He watched her eyes cloud with thunderstorms. He hated seeing her cry. He hated that the pain she was having wasn't physical, because there was no way to heal emotional pain. 

He pressed his lips together and looked around at the book shelves, anxious about what he wanted to tell her. 

"You also have me." He mumbled. 

"What?" Hermione breathed looking up at him, her eyes piercing his. 

"Hermione, I have been here since the beginning. You aren't alone. What makes you think I wouldn't want to help you out?" He asked. 

"Draco," tears streamed down her cheeks and landed on Draco's chest, the salt in them slightly burning the small cuts that had been slashed into his skin, but he ignored it. "I don't expect you to care for me and a child that isn't yours. You don't deserve that." 

Draco exhaled loudly and grabbed Hermione's face gently, forcing her to maintain eye contact with him. "I deserve you, Hermione." He whispered. "I'll admit it, when I first took you in, I didn't think you'd be here for this long. I wasn't planning on it," He blinked hard. "But since you came here, the only thing I can think about is you. You're like a goddamned fever I can't rid myself of." 

Hermione looked at him for a moment, and he read nothing short of love on her face. It warmed him to the core he'd thought died, and it scared the crap out of him. His soft side was coming out in front of her more and more everyday, and it got harder to hide his emotions from her. He was afraid of loving her too much, because if he did, what would happen if she pushed him away? 

She looked away from him and wiped the tears away from her cheeks. She really wanted Draco to be with her, but she felt like it was a forced decision. She felt like if she had never ended up on his doorstep, he wouldn't have been saying this to her. 

They came from two very different worlds, his was filled with real dangers, violence, and passion, whereas all the perils and action in her life, have been largely confined to the pages of the books she read and to the imagination that she held inside her own head.

"Let me help you, Granger." He whispered, because if he didn't, he would've burst into tears too. "Please." 

"For how long?" Hermione breathed. Her air intake was put on hold by his words. 

"For as long as you want me to." He smiled weakly.

"It's not fair for you, Draco." Hermione wiped her nose. 

Draco moved closer to Hermione's face, the tips of their noses touching each other. He grabbed the base of her throat softly, not squeezing, just wanting to touch her skin. His eyes flickered with something stern, something serious.

"You don't get to tell me what's fair for me, Granger. If I want to take care of you, that's my choice." He contended. "And fuck, I don't know what the hell I'd be doing if you weren't here. I promise you, you will have my full support. I know I can't tell you what to do with your body, but I'll be here to cherish it. Every inch and every curve of it. The baby won't stop me from really caring about you, Hermione. And you won't stop me from caring for that baby either." 

"Draco–"

"Hush." Draco put a finger to Hermione's lips and moved her from his lap, laying her gently back down on the bed. "I don't want to hear it. It's final." 

Hermione snorted, her mood lightening up. "You know, if you had told me this Draco existed five years ago, I would've never believed it." 

"Me neither." Draco chuckled. "I guess it takes a special person and isolation to bring it out." 

He got up off Hermione's bed and grabbed his blood soaked turtleneck. "You rest. After I get out of the shower, I'll have Blimbey make lunch."

Hermione smiled softly and nodded. Her eyes followed Draco as he left the room and closed the door behind him. 

She was confused, maybe even a little dazed. Draco really liked passing the word "care" around. Hermione sighed, maybe he was feeling the same way she was. Too nervous to call it like, but too scared to call it love. Who knew four letter words could have so much damn meaning behind them?

Hermione was too scared to admit to herself that what she was feeling towards Draco was love times a thousand. It wasn't just love, because she had loved Ron, but not this much. She thought she couldn't love anyone else after Ron's death, but somehow, she did, and it was with the exact opposite. She didn't want to call it love, because if she did, she would end up heartbroken if it wasn't. She saw love as a pond to be stepped into, swum around in, and then climbed out of and toweled off before getting too chilly, because if left in too long, she'd freeze. She was scared to love again, because the last time she did, he was gone.

Hermione pushed her frizzy hair away from her face and picked up the book she had destroyed earlier. She wanted to fix it, but it was impossible when she had no wand to do it with. She sighed and placed it on her dresser, watching it. She didn't know why she felt so bad breaking one of Draco's books, when there were hundreds around her, but for some reason, it made her guilty knowing one of his possessions were unfixable.

She huffed loudly in boredom. She wasn't really in the mood to read. She slowly ventured out of the bed, and opened the library door, stepping out into the hallway. 

Since Draco was in the shower, no one was going to scold her for wandering around. She didn't want to stay cooped up in the library all day. 

Hermione walked carefully down the hall and towards the stairs, her bare feet tapping against the cold tile as she did so. 

"Miss!" A small voice squeaked.

Hermione jumped and turned around. Blimbey stood there, small and timid, her eyes wide as tennis balls.

"Oh! Hi Blimbey." Hermione greeted with a warm smile. 

"Master Malfoy said you need rest! You can't roam the Manor right now! Miss needs rest!" Blimbey's squeaky voice exclaimed. 

Hermione laughed. "What Master Malfoy doesn't know won't hurt him." 

Hermione edged closer to the stairs, Blimbey quickly running behind her. 

"Miss, please! Miss needs to get back to the library, before Master Malfoy is done showering!" She squeaked. 

"I feel just fine though, Blimbey." Hermione sighed. 

"Just because Miss feels fine, doesn't mean she is actually fine!" Blimbey's wide eyes widened even further. 

Hermione bit her lip and exhaled a defeated breath. 

Physically, Hermione was okay. Mentally, emotionally, she was struggling. She was struggling with the pregnancy, herself, and her relationship with Draco. They weren't together, were they? They didn't love each other did they? 

But everything they did, couples would do. Everything they did, people who loved each other would do. They had sex, they slept together in the same bed, kissed, lived under the same roof, but for some reason, neither of them could come clean about how they felt for each other, because they both feared the same exact thing: rejection and heartbreak. They had suffered too much during and after the war, that one wrong move could break them both. 

Hermione had never believed herself fit to be loved by any person, even Ron. She had never really realized how dead she really was, even when she was breathing and living physically, she was gone on the inside, and had been since the war. 

She tried so hard to be happy after the war, and being with Ron and Harry, she was. At least, she thought she had been. However, deep down, there had always been a graveyard. On the inside, she was already buried there. She had already been six feet under. The maggots and worms were already eating her rotting corpse. The old Hermione didn't exist anymore. 

But now, being with Draco and in this Manor, she has a new life, of which this is the first moment, and even after many years have passed she will still think: Yes, that was it, the beginning of my life. When she was with him, the graveyard turned into a garden. 

"Miss! Miss!" Blimbey jumped and waved her hands in front of Hermione, bringing her back to the present. 

"Sorry, Blimbey." Hermione snorted. "I was in my own little world, as usual." 

"Let's get you back to the library." She said, grabbing Hermione's hand. 

"Blimbey, I have a quick question." Hermione asked.

The elf stopped abruptly in the middle of the hall and let go of Hermione's hand. "Anything, Miss." 

"Does Draco ever, you know, talk to you about me?" Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears. 

"Master Malfoy talks about a lot of things with Blimbey, Miss." She smiled. "You definitely come up a lot. Lately, it's all he talks about." 

Hermione felt her heart flutter. Why was she happy that Draco talked about her to Blimbey? If anything, it was probably just complaints about her. 

"Are they...good things?" Hermione pressed her lips together, anxious about the answer. 

"Yes. Master Malfoy never has anything bad to say about Miss Mione." The elf nodded. 

Hermione smiled. The Draco she knew several years ago, would have nothing but awful things to say about her. She was grateful that the Draco she knew now was almost nothing like the one she had known in her childhood. 

"He writes about you a lot." The elf smiled. 

"Writes about me?" Hermione was a bit taken aback. Draco Malfoy writes about her? Why? 

The elf nodded quickly. "Yes. Master Malfoy loves to write and draw. He is very talented. Always has been." 

Hermione felt those familiar butterflies in her stomach. Her face and body grew hot again. She couldn't fathom that she, Hermione Granger, was at the forefront of Draco Malfoy's mind. A mudblood had finally captivated a Malfoy. 

"Granger, why aren't you in bed like I asked?" Draco's deep voice sounded in the hall, making both Blimbey and Hermione jolt. His voice was calm, but annoyed. 

Hermione turned around and faced him. Her eyes trailed up and down his body. His pale blond hair was still wet, water droplets were falling from the several loose strands that always framed his face, and ran down his bare chest. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, showing his abs and toned v-line. Hermione felt a heat pool between her legs as she stared longer, taking a mental picture of the godly man that stood in front of her, being a foot taller than she was, he towered over her. 

Standing as close as he was to her, she could smell his fresh-out-of-the-shower scent. He smelled of Irish Spring soap and spearmint toothpaste. She felt herself grow hotter the longer she looked at him, but was unable to look away. 

Draco's eyebrows furrowed and an amused smirk appeared on his face. "Granger, this isn't a museum, I'm not a statue, you need to talk to me when I talk back." 

Hermione shook herself from her mind. "S-sorry." She stammered, feeling overwhelming flustered. 

Draco leaned against the wall, using one of his fists, while his other hand landed on his hip. "Didn't I tell you to stay in the library?" 

"Well, yes, but–"

"Blimbey was bringing her back to her room sir." Blimey spoke up. "She was just–"

"I know." Draco interrupted, not taking his eyes away from Hermione's. "My bedroom. Now." 

"What?" Hermione blinked like sand had just been kicked in her eyes. "Why?" Her already heated body was once again rising in temperature. This man had her feeling like she was going to die from a fever. 

"Because you obviously need supervision, Granger." He groaned, running a hand through his wet hair. "I can't let you out of my sight anymore. We both know you're going to end up getting hurt again. When I said I'd take care of you, I meant it. Bedroom. Now."

"But don't you need to get dressed first? You're still–" 

"Oh please." He snorted. "Nothing you haven't seen before. Now get that ass of yours in my bedroom, because you cannot be trusted by yourself."

"But–"

"Hermione!" Draco exasperated. "Discussion over. Bedroom. Now." 

Hermione felt her cheeks flush a deep scarlet. 

"Come on." He sighed, grabbing her hand and dragging her to his room.


	27. Chapter 27

As soon as they reached the doorway, Draco picked Hermione up and crossed the threshold, laying her on his bed and walking to his wardrobe. 

"I could've just walked myself in here." Hermione stated.

"You weren't walking fast enough." Draco said, as he searched through a plethora of clothes that hung neatly in his enormous and expensive wardrobe.

She watched as he dropped his towel from around his waist, onto the floor, leaving him naked in front of her.

Hermione stared at his toned and injured back, careful not to flick her eyes any lower. She didn't really understand why she was still so flustered and nervous to study his bare body, anybody would love a chance to see Draco Malfoy's godly body, but for some reason, Hermione felt like she was invading his privacy. She felt like she wasn't meant to see this; see him.

A part of her felt like she wasn't meant to be here, but the other part told her otherwise. Hermione didn't know which part to listen to. She didn't mind staying here, she didn't mind being around Draco now, but she hated not being able to know what was going on outside the Manor. How were Harry and Ginny doing? Were they okay? Have they told the rest of the Weasleys that she was pregnant? Were they getting suspicious? But then again, Draco had lifted the enchantments, so what was holding her back from finding out? Why was she still here, when there was nothing stopping her from leaving?

The questions that raced through her mind gave her a headache. She worried about too many things all at once.

Hermione watched as Draco finished dressing himself, buttoning up a plain white dress shirt and cuffing the sleeves. She finally let her eyes venture below his waist as he tightened the belt around a pair of black khakis.

"You're very brave to wear white." Hermione said.

"Am I?" He arched an eyebrow, turning towards his mirror and adjusting his shirt collar.

Hermione lifted herself off of his bed, and approached him, her eyes flickering down his neatly dressed figure. "White stains easily."

"Depends on the stain." He replied. "Tea, coffee, and blood are usually pretty stubborn, but something like dirt or dust, is easy to clean."

"What if your wounds start to bleed again?" Hermione asked.

"Then the shirt is ruined." Draco shrugged. "But I can always buy another one."

"You're playing a dangerous game." Hermione said softly.

Draco snorted, "I'm playing a lot of them at the moment. Danger is all I know, and something I'm trying to keep you out of."

They gazed at each other for a moment. Hermione couldn't pull away from his bright grey eyes, which was a good thing for Draco, because he couldn't get enough of her honey brown ones.

She wanted to kiss him, he wanted to kiss her, but it was almost like there had been an invisible wall between them. Neither of them moved, just bore into each other's pupils.

Hermione felt her breath leave her body every time she looked at him. She hoped that feeling would go away sooner, because if she kept it up at this rate, she'd suffocate.

Draco was so different from Ron. The love, or whatever it was that she had felt towards him was just as drastic.

Hermione had always thought love was gentle and kind, like floating on cloud nine. At least, that's what it was with Ron. With Ron, love was like vanilla ice cream, it was generic, but sweet and timeless, and her feelings towards Draco was rocky road with cherries and sprinkles on top; complicated, but her favorite.

What she felt towards Draco was something that casts you into the wind, sets you ablaze, makes you burn through the skies and ignite the night like a phoenix; the kind that cuts you loose like a wildfire and you can't stop running simply because you keep on burning everything that you touch. It was one that burns and flies, and it made her feel free and alive.

Draco moved Hermione's hair away from her face and smiled. "Ojalá decidieras quedarte, porque si te vas, no confiaría en mí solo. (I wish you would decide to stay, because if you left, I wouldn't trust myself alone.)"

"Was that Spanish?" Hermione furrowed her brows, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Yeah." Draco chuckled.

"What did you say?" She asked.

"I'm still learning. It's all jumbled." He lied.

“Either way, it sounded very lovely." She said, moving a loose strand of hair from Draco's face.

"Thank you." He bit his lip to avoid smiling again. He felt like he was smiling too much; like life was too good. He didn't want to get his hopes up.

Suddenly, Blimbey apparated into the room, startling both Draco and Hermione.

"Lunch is ready!" She squeaked.

Draco and Hermione glanced at each other.

"You hungry?" He asked.

"Starving." Hermione snorted.

Hermione only had lunch with Draco once, when she first came here. They despised each other back then. This time, it was different, the tension was thin and the atmosphere was okay.

They sat across from each other at a small kitchen table. The curried tomato bisque was placed in front of them by Blimbey, who bowed and left quickly from the room. Hermione could see that it was still hot, the steam lifted into the air, twirling and spinning, before evaporating.

"This looks a little too fancy for just a lunch." Hermione chuckled.

"The elf likes to make fancy dishes," Draco chuckled, "let her do her job."

Hermione grabbed the spoon next to her and spun it slowly in the soup, before scooping some up and blowing on it.

"Be careful." Draco's eyes flickered up from his soup to Hermione.

"It's soup, Draco. It won't hurt me." She rolled her eyes, before taking the spoonful in her mouth.

The warm soup felt nice going down her throat. It was a much needed comfort considering the previous events that had taken place earlier.

She looked up at Draco, who was still looking at her, as he pulled his spoon slowly out of his mouth. She swallowed. How was he so attractive, even when he was doing something so casual?

"Your cheeks are flushed, Granger." He laughed. "What's got you all flustered?"

"I think you know why, Draco." Hermione chuckled.

He grinned, "I don't even try."

Hermione couldn't stop staring at his mouth when he spoke. Every time she looked at them, she'd remember how they felt against her skin, when he kissed her, cherished her with them. His kisses were the kind that curled toes. She needed to stop looking at him in general, because the butterflies in her stomach couldn't grow any bigger.

As Hermione scooped another spoonful of soup, the same sharp pain flared in her leg, causing her to jolt a little and flick the spoonful of soup out of her hand, which ended up landing on Draco's face.

She gasped, watching Draco blink slowly and lick his teeth as the soup ran down one of his cheeks. Hermione stifled a giggle, covering her mouth.

"You think this is funny?" He asked, a smile dangling on the edge of his lips.

Hermione pressed her lips together, trying to stop herself from laughing. "A little bit."

Draco narrowed his eyes playfully and grabbed a spoonful of his soup, flicking it at her. She gasped as it landed on her nose.

"You didn't..." She breathed.

"I did." He smirked.

Hermione flicked more soup at him in response, landing on his white shirt.

He looked down at his shirt, then back at Hermione, a stern yet playful look spreading across his face.

"I told you, you're brave to wear white." Hermione giggled.

"I'm brave for having lunch with you." Draco laughed. "I didn't know you were one for food fights."

"I didn't do it on purpose...at first." Hermione replied. "My leg has been...weird lately."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked seriously, leaning forward in his chair.

"It's just a sharp pain that shoots through it occasionally." She shrugged.

"Did you tell Ms. Frium?" Draco's eyebrows furrowed.

"It slipped my mind. You can't think much after you've just been crucioed." She sighed.

"I'll have Blimbey get you more healing potions. They'll help." He stated.

Hermione nervously fumbled with her hands. She didn't want to take the potions. She hated the way they made her feel, plus they didn't even work that well anyways.

"No. I don't want them." She replied, a little too stubbornly.

"You can't just refuse–"

"Yes I can. I just did." Hermione got up and grabbed the small hand towel that hung by the stove and wiped her face with it. She then threw the towel to Draco.

"And what's with the sudden attitude?" Draco raised an eyebrow, wiping his face with the towel.

"I don't have an attitude! I just said that I didn't want to take the potions. They barely do anything, anyways."

"You don't have a choice when it comes to your health, Hermione."

"I do when it doesn't work."

A wave of silence washed over them. For some reason, Hermione was frustrated. Frustrated that Draco thought she was incapable of taking care of herself. She wasn't a child, yet that's what he was treating her like. She wanted to be treated like a woman, a woman on his level.

"I'm going to change my shirt. Feel free to not do anything stupid while I'm gone." He sighed, getting up and throwing the towel on the table.

"What the hell do you think I'll do?!" Hermione exclaimed, following him out of the kitchen. "I'm not a child! You can't just–"

Draco stopped abruptly and turned around facing her, his face turning serious. "The enchantments are back on the Manor."

Hermione felt a stab in her chest, a hint of betrayal in the wound. "Why?!"

"Why?" Draco raised his voice. "Would you like me to recall the events that happened earlier today, or–" 

"You're scared, aren't you?" Hermione whispered, her face softening as she bore into his eyes. "You're scared I'll leave."

"Hermione, that's not–" He reached out to grab her arm, but she pulled away.

"You are! I didn't fucking leave when the enchantments were lifted, so what the hell makes you think I'd leave now?" She barked.

Draco looked away from her. He closed his eyes slowly and opened them back up again, as he debated on his response.

"You still haven't decided to stay." He breathed.p>

"So that gives you permission to play around with the enchantments?!" She exasperated. "Why the hell do you want to keep me here so bad?"

Draco looked at her, a slight look of hurt on his face. He wanted to hold her until she wasn't falling apart anymore, and he wanted to be the stitches that helped her heal, but he knew that there was a good chance he'd just infect her wounds further.

He wished that he could tell Hermione all about it. Tell her about the battles that he had fought alone, the darkness that had swallowed all of him, the moments he had to pretend that he was strong and unbreakable while his heart ached inside, and he wished he could have her all to himself, but he knew she was still fighting with herself.

"Tell me why, Draco," Hermione's voice was on the edge of sobs, she was trying so hard not to cry. She hated crying. "Why don't you want me to leave?"

Hermione looked into those damn eyes again. She couldn't help it, it was like they always seemed to find her. Deep down, Hermione didn't want to leave, she didn't want to be away from Draco, but she couldn't quite admit that to herself.

Draco searched her honey brown eyes and bit his lip to stop it from quivering. He wasn't going to tear up, he wasn't going to cry, because he wasn't weak. He can't protect her when he was weak. 

"Because if you leave, there's no way I'll be able to protect you, Hermione." He sighed, and moved closer to her, closing the gap between them. "When you're here, all I have to do is turn a corner, and you're there. You're always around me in this Manor, no matter how massive it is. If you leave, the world is endless, infinite. There's too many places in this world to hide. What if you get hurt again? I'd be the last one to know."

Hermione closed her eyes and looked away, breaking her gaze with Draco. Draco cupped her face and turned her head, making her face him. 

"Hermione, I don't want to have to find out you died when I get a funeral invitation. I don't want to find out when it's too late. I will not let you die before I'm not able to do anything." He was too exhausted to hold himself together anymore, Draco's eyes pricked with tears as he swallowed. "If I have to attend your funeral, it won't be the only one that day. I'll make sure everyone wears white because I want to make sure the blood stains show." 

Despite the tears that had welled up in his eyes, his voice was serious and stern. It wasn't a threat, it was a promise. It wasn't a question, it was a command. Hermione closed her eyes again, the sight of his teary eyes making her just as sad. 

"Open your eyes, Granger." He ordered softly. 

She obeyed and slowly opened them as they were now spilling out tears. She didn't say anything, she couldn't say anything. She was never able to say anything when she was suffocated by his beauty. She hated that he was so good looking, she hated that she felt so strongly about him, because she really didn't want to leave, but she didn't know if she wanted to tell him yet.

"I haven't promised to stay, because what if it's not forever?" She choked. 

Draco eyes glinted and widened slightly. "What do you mean?" 

"If I decide to stay, what if you get sick of me? What if you decide you don't want me around anymore? If it's just the two of us, how could you be interested in me forever?" Hermione's voice cracked as a silent sob exited her throat.

Draco was a bit taken aback by those words. He couldn't understand why someone so beautiful and fascinating was scared that someone bruised, broken and ruined like him could ever lose interest in her. He was the Grim Reaper, and she was death; it was his job to find her, and her job to accept it.

"Because you remind me that I'm not completely dead, Granger. You remind me that I have a heartbeat. Because every time I see those fucking eyes of yours, or when I just glance in your fucking direction, my heart pounds in my chest. I've never felt like this, and–" He swallowed thickly. "And I don't ever want to stop feeling like this." 

Hermione felt the butterflies flutter in her stomach again. She didn't know how, but she felt the exact way towards Draco as he had described. He also made her feel alive.

"And," He cleared his throat. "I don't want to call it love, because I don't love you, Hermione."

Hermione's breathing stopped. If he didn't love her, then what did he feel?

Draco pulled her tightly against him, his big arms wrapping around her body comfortably. She felt safe, she felt wanted, she wanted to stay.

He kissed her forehead and bent down, his peppermint breath fanning against her neck.

/p>

"I want to kiss every soft place of you, make you blush and faint, pleasure you until you weep, and dry every tear with my lips. If you only knew how I crave the taste of you." His whispers were begs. Begs and pleas for her to stay. "I want to take you in my hands and mouth and feast on you. I want to drink wine and honey from you. I want you under me. On your back." He felt Hermione shudder softly at his words. "I'm sorry. You deserve more respect than that. But I can't stop thinking of it. Your arms and legs around me. Your mouth, open for my kisses. I need too much of you. A lifetime of nights spent between your thighs wouldn't be enough. I want to talk with you forever. I want to remember every word you've ever said to me. I want to have dinner with you in the candlelight while we talk about scientific theories and dance together in the moonlight."

Draco hands traveled down the side of her body and grabbed her waist, making her body heat up quickly. 

It was quiet. Hermione was just now trying to process everything he had said to her. Was this a confession?

Hermione didn't want to say anything, because all she had to say was the exact same thing Draco had just spoke up about.

Her skin burned underneath his touch, like it always did. He was a walking wildfire. He was hot, and destroyed everything in his path, but Hermione knew, that eventually things grow back.

Without a word, she grabbed his face with both of her hands and crashed her lips into his. 

She threw herself into that fire, threw herself into it, into him, and let herself burn. They both had too much pent up passion and desire to let it go to waste.

Draco cupped her face back and pushed even deeper into the kiss. They were hungry; starved.

His hands trailed back down the sides of her body, and lifted her by her ass. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

Still not breaking away from the kiss, Draco walked over to the sofa and gently laid her down beneath him, nibbling on her bottom lip and moving to her neck, leaving hickies anywhere he could. He wanted to mark her, show everyone how much this woman absolutely weakened him.

"Draco..." She breathed, grabbing the back of his head, tangling her hands into his hair.

"Yes?" He whispered as he nibbled her earlobe.

"Dont be gentle with me, please. I promise I'm not fragile." She replied, a soft moan escaping her lips as he licked and kissed the soft parts of her neck.

He cradled her head in both his hands, his mouth hot on her neck. "Good, because sometimes," he murmured, "I want to punish you a little."

"Why?"

"For making me want you until I ache with it. For the way I wake at night just to watch you sleep." His face was intense and passionate above her, his grey eyes sharp in their brightness. "I want you more each time I'm with you. I can't be alone without wondering where you are, when I can have you again." His lips possessed hers in a kiss that was both savage and tender, and she opened to him eagerly.

His big, cold hands caused Hermione to gasp when they touched her skin. He grabbed the bottom of her shirt and lifted it above her head, throwing it across the room.

He palmed her breasts in his hands, as he kissed her. She moaned softly in his mouth, due to her breasts being extra sensitive since the start of her pregnancy.

Draco pulled away from her lips, a string of saliva still connecting both of them. "You deserve to be treated like the fucking warrior goddess you are—beautiful, strong, perfect. Hermione, you deserve someone that can worship your body all night and then pull your hair back and fuck you till you scream out in release, over and over. You deserve the flowers and the fucks."

Hermione laughed and pulled him to her lips again missing the touch of them against hers."You also deserve to be treated like a king, Draco." She said softly.

"Oh please." He chuckled, moving her onto his lap as he unbuttoned his stained shirt and threw it in the direction he threw Hermione's. "I've been treated like a king since birth."

"I want you, Draco. All of you. Please." She looked deep into his eyes, desire and passion taking over and went in for another kiss.

She tugged on his bottom lip, making him groan softly in response.

"Don't hold back, Hermione." He panted, their chests heaving with excitement. "Torture me. It's the only thing I'm used to."

Hermione smiled. "And I want you to take care of me, it's the only thing I'm used to."

Draco grinned and lowered himself to her breasts, licking and nibbling on her nipples. Hermione gasped and moaned, clutching onto his hair.

"Fuck–Draco..." She bit her lip hard as he worked his tongue around her breasts and further down, getting to the elastic of her shorts.He pushed her gently off of his lap and laid her back down on the sofa, kissing her stomach before pulling down both her underwear and shorts, his head between her thighs.

Hermione shivered at the sudden exposure, but Draco's hot skin against her warmed her up.

As she locked her ankles behind his head, and knit her fingers into his hair, he slid his hands under her ass, and began to kiss the insides of her thighs, working his way up till she could feel his warm breath and his tongue caressing her womanhood.

He slid his tongue in and out of her, drawing her wetness up to her clit, gliding up and down, round and round, slow-fast-slow-fast, as he french-kissed her there with increasingly wild and passionate abandon, ever faster and harder.

"Merlin, Draco!" Hermione moaned, throwing her head back, her thighs beginning to shake as he increased in speed.

One of Draco's hands palmed her breasts, while the other fingered her slowly, achingly.

Hermione could feel the pressure of pleasure building up inside of her lower abdomen, when suddenly–it stopped.

She snapped her eyes opened and furrowed her brows down at Draco, who was now smirking amusingly between her legs.

"Please...don't stop." She whined.

"I have something better, hun." He chuckled, coming back up to her face and kissing her lips softly.

Hermione could hear his belt being undone and his zipper flying down. She wanted so badly to be absolutely owned. She wanted Draco to own her, keep her as his, because maybe if he did, she wouldn't have to worry about anyone else.

He positioned himself in front of her entrance and looked into her eyes. "Are you sure, mi amor? We can always stop."

"Draco, you and I both know we want this. You deserve to feel as good as I do. You can't always give and not receive anything. It isn't fair for you." Hermione panted.

"I just haven't felt this good in forever, Granger. It's like a reward I did nothing to deserve." He moved a strand of hair from Hermione's face.

"If I say you deserve it, then you do, Draco. Now please, fuck me." She laughed.

He grinned, "You don't have to tell me twice."

Hermione gasped and clung onto Draco as he pushed inside of her. The feeling of him filling her up, made her walls tighten around him. He kissed her deeply as he gave her time to adjust to his above average size and moved slowly, causing Hermione to whimper with each thrust.

It felt so good. They both felt as if their insides were made of butterflies and fireworks. They needed this, they wanted this.

Their skin to skin contact was like white fire through Draco's veins. He had wondered once why love was always phrased in terms of burning. The conflagration in his own veins, now, gave the answer. It burned better than fire whiskey, and was much more addicting.

His thrusts got faster, his hips driving into Hermione's. She dug his nails into his back–making him groan and move faster.

The knot in Hermione's stomach grew bigger and became tighter, desperate to be released.

"Please..." Draco breathed. "Come for me, Mione."

The desperation in his voice made Hermione moan softly in response. She let the knot in her lower abdomen release, an explosion of pure and utter ecstasy flooding her veins. Her vision became just blurs of white light and her body shook. She clung on tight to Draco, riding out her high.

Draco groaned in the crook of her neck as he released inside of her, embracing her tightly as she still shook and whimpered from the intense orgasm.

It was quiet, their chests heaving as they tried catching their breaths. They stared at each other and smiled. This was the best both of them have ever felt in a long time.

Draco collapsed on top of Hermione, exhaustion taking over both of them.

Hermione played with his hair, it was soft and messy from their intimacy.

Draco smirked and looked up at her.

"What?" She snorted.

"You have me absolutely captivated, Hermione Granger." He grinned.

"Do I?" She laughed.

"Absolutely." He chuckled. "Oh, and we might want to get cleaned up soon."

"Why?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I'm having some friends over. And you're coming with." He replied.

Hermione's smile dropped, a serious expression taking over her face. "Friends? Who else knows you're here?"

"Just Blaise, Theo, and Pansy. I told them they could have dinner with us." He kissed Hermione's cheek and sat up on the couch.

"I don't–"

Draco grabbed her hand reassuringly. "Please. I promise we'll all have fun. If you want to stay here, I don't want you to think I want to keep you completely isolated. This will be a good time to talk to others."

"Last time we did that, I ended up being crucioed." Hermione said.

"But you already know Blaise and them. And I'd love to show you off." He kissed her forehead.

In that moment, Hermione felt absolutely loved and cherished. She smiled at Draco who smiled back.

"Please stay, Hermione. I have so many things to show you and a plethora of things to tell you." His eyebrows furrowed with worry, as if he were scared she'd refuse.


	28. Chapter 28

Hermione took in Draco's naked body. This time, she didn't look away, she didn't try to avoid it. She wanted to keep it in her memory forever. His picture perfect body was something she wanted to never forget.

She thought about what he had just said to her: "Please stay Hermione..." He was desperate. It was weird seeing someone who used to show barely any emotion, practically begging for someone like her to stay and love him. But he didn't love her.

Draco didn't love her, he worshipped her. The feelings he felt for her was nothing that can be described with a four letter word that was so carelessly thrown around.

He couldn't tell if he had loved her the first moment he saw her underneath the amber streetlight, or if it was the second or third or fourth. But he did remember the first moment he looked at her walking towards him and realized that somehow the rest of the world seemed to vanish when he was with her. His feelings for Hermione were free like a wildfire, crazy like the moon, always like tomorrow, sudden like an inhale and overcoming like the tides.

He looked at her. She was deep in thought. He knew she was thinking about staying, but what scared him was how long she was taking to come up with her answer. He wanted her, he wanted the baby, and he wanted to finally be able to feel the blood pump in his body, because he was tired of having to check his pulse to make sure he wasn't actually dead. And he didn't have to when he was around her, because every organ in his body would go absolutely insane. And he loved it.

She taught him that one cannot take pleasure without giving pleasure, and that every gesture, every caress, every touch, every glance, every last bit of the body has its secrets, which brings happiness to the person who knows how to wake it. She taught him that after a moment of intimacy, the lovers should not part without admiring each other, without being conquered or having conquered, so that neither is bleak or glutted or has the bad feeling of being used or misused. She was teaching him how to love.

Hermione wanted to stay, but a small part of her still thought maybe this was a dream. She was scared that this was only temporary, and she wanted this to be forever. How was she going to make sure that Draco really meant what he said? She was too scared to love Draco, because the last time she poured her feelings into someone, he was gone. And she loved Draco more than she had ever loved Ron. What if something happened to Draco? How would she handle the grief? She wouldn't. She knew that if she really came to terms with her feelings with Draco, and something were to happen, she'd be alone. She couldn't be alone again. If she was going to love Draco, it was going to be forever, and if she decided not to leave, he had to promise to stay alive. Because in the back of Hermione's head, something told her Draco was hanging on a loose string. And if she stayed, she could mend it.

"Hermione?" Draco furrowed his eyebrows with worry. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She sighed. "I just–"

She stopped. She didn't know how to make the words come out of her mouth. She could say them perfectly in her head, but for some reason, it was hard to say it aloud.

Her body grew hot and shaky as her nerves started to activate. She wasn't very good at communicating and her anxiety didn't help.

Draco smiled reassuringly and rubbed her shoulder. "Tell me."

Hermione swallowed, and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "I want to stay."

"You do?" Draco's eyes glinted with excitement, as he pressed his lips together, hiding his smile.

Hermione bit her lip and fumbled nervously with her fingers, avoiding Draco's eyes. "Yes, but–" She ran a hand through her messy hair in frustration. "If I stay, I want you to promise me you won't leave."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "What makes you think I'd leave you?"

"I just don't want to end up giving you all of me and something happen to you." She whispered, blinking away tears that were forming in her eyes. "I can't handle losing someone else I care about. Especially someone I care about more than I ever have."

"I'm not going anywhere. I don't have to go anywhere when everything I need is sat right in front of me." Draco replied.

Hermione smiled faintly. She really wanted this as much as Draco did.

She looked back down at her fingers and looked up at him, holding her pinky out.

He glanced down at her pinky and back up at her, a curious look on his face.

"What are you doing?" He snorted.

"A pinky promise. It's like an unbreakable vow in the muggle world." Hermione replied. "I want you to pinky promise me that you'll stay out of danger, and stay safe. I don't want to lose you. Please, promise me that you will stay alive."

"Mione..." Draco swallowed. "The only way I'd ever leave you, is if you left me first."

"Pinky promise me. Hold out your pinky." She demanded.

He snorted and held out his pinky, interlocking it with hers.

"Pinky promise?" She asked.

"Pinky promise." He smiled.

-

Hermione stepped out of the shower and dried herself off. She stared at herself in the fogged up mirror. She looked close to her normal self. She smiled. Her eyes had a spark in them that she hadn't seen since before Ron had passed. She was healing.

She wrapped the towel around her figure tightly and stepped into the hall and in the library, sorting through her dresser.

"Don't worry about fancy clothing, Mione. It's not an elegant party." Draco appeared in the doorway, making Hermione turn around and face him.

He was wearing a black turtleneck with a black blazer, and of course, black pants. Hermione bit her lip. His wardrobe was not very colorful. She hoped that she could add some more color to not just his life, but clothing collection too.

"Well, I know–but knowing you and your friends, you dress fancy without even trying." She replied.

Draco laughed. "I'm just saying, it's not a formal gathering. I don't care what you wear, but I was hoping you could wear this underneath it."

Hermione watched as Draco held up the black lingerie outfit she had found in her dresser when she first got here. Her eyes widened.

"I thought you threw that out?" Hermione held her towel around her body as she grabbed the lingerie from Draco, examining it.

"I got it for a reason." He chuckled. "And I want to see it on you."

Hermione looked down and felt her cheeks grow hot. She knew she was blushing. "Right now?"

Draco closed the gap between them and titled her chin up, making him look at her. He smirked. "Drop the towel."

Her eyes widened. "Draco, I–"

"You act like I've never seen you naked before." He chuckled. "Your body is just fine, you know that–right?"

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek and looked up at him. She knew her body wasn't new to Draco, but dressing and undressing in front of him always made her nervous. She felt like a doll, like a mannequin. She pressed her lips together and avoided his gaze. "It's just that–I don't want to feel like I'm on display. I'm not that nice to look at."

"Mione," Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "As long as you're with me, you'll be on display. How else am I supposed to show everyone how lovely you are?"

"I'm no beauty, Draco." She snorted shyly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"But I'm as close to a beast as you'll ever see. And what's a beast without his beauty?" He whispered in her ear.

His tone and warm breath against her skin made Hermione shudder pleasantly. He kissed the tip of her ear and trailed down to her neck, nibbling it gently. She tilted her head back to give him more room, his kisses burning her with desire and pleasure.

Draco cupped her face and kissed her deeply on the lips, then pulled away, unwrapping the towel around her figure.

"Put on the lingerie, mi amor." He winked and walked to her bed, sitting on the edge of it.

Hermione glanced at him nervously as she started putting on the black knickers.

Draco put a knuckle to his lips as his eyes slowly trailed up her body, taking in every feature and stopping at her eyes.

She was an absolute goddess. He couldn't help but think she was the reincarnation of Aphrodite herself. She was one that could make all the goddesses envious. She was even more beautiful than Psyche, even more lovely than Hera, and stronger than Artemis and Athena.

"Black looks absolutely fantastic on you." He said. "You should wear it more often."

"And you should wear something other than black and green." Hermione chuckled.

Draco licked his lips and pressed them together. "I can't imagine myself in any other colors." He laughed. "Can you imagine me in yellow?"

Hermione finished putting on the bra and laughed. "I think you'd look lovely in red."

"Red?!" He exclaimed. "I wouldn't be caught dead in red!"

They both laughed. The atmosphere was the best it had ever been since Hermione was taken in. She was glad she decided to stay.

"You look even better in that than I had imagined." Draco lifted himself off of the bed and kissed Hermione on the cheek. The butterflies in her stomach went mad. "They'll be here soon, I hope to see you downstairs in a moment."

"You will." She smiled softly, watching him walk out of the library.

Hermione's eyes scanned him as he left. The image of his wide brow, his Roman nose, those too-cold eyes, and the lips that in another life- another, better world- would still have been beautiful. This man wanted her. Her. Someone who stuck her nose in books and couldn't brush her hair without it getting frizzy. He was intense and intelligent, arrogant and vulnerable, dark and strange, and the more she found out about him, the more she thought that perhaps she might fall even more into the depths of love.

She absorbed the terror and beauty of him and his world. Of every moment over the past days. All of it, filling her up like the first breath she'd ever taken. And never had she loved life more.

-

Draco walked down into the sitting room, smiling like idiot. He really couldn't believe she decided to stay, and he was relieved she did.

She was the only thing on his mind. He promised her and himself that he'd do anything to make her stay, and that didn't stop just because she decided too.

Draco sat down in his armchair, putting on his reading glasses, and picking up his notebook. He leaned back into the chair, and started scribbling to pass the time.

  
  


Love in the Library 2003

Draco smiled, seeing his drawing come together. He couldn't help but get somewhat frustrated, not being able to capture all of her beauty on paper.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione coming down the staircase. He turned, watching her carefully make her way down.

She was wearing a maroon sweater with off the shoulder sleeves, and a pair of casual jeans. She felt like she wasn't dressed to the occasion, but took Draco's advice in not dressing too formal.

She stepped off the last stair and made her way to the sofa, sitting down, watching Draco close the notebook and set it on the table beside him.

"You look lovely, mi amor." He smiled.

Hermione felt herself shudder every time her called her that. Every time he rolled his Rs, it made a heat pool between her legs. She couldn't decide whether or not she liked Spanish or French better when it came from his mouth.

Hermione looked down at herself and glanced back up at Draco. "Thank you. I'm afraid it's a little too casual, but–"

"It's fine." Draco chuckled, taking off his glasses.

The doorbell rang, making Hermione sit up straight. She hadn't seen Blaise, Theo, or Pansy since the war, and she was scared they would still feel the same towards her that they had five years ago.

Draco got up and approached the door, grabbing the doorknob, but turned to Hermione before opening it.

"Don't be nervous, Mione. I'll be with you at all times–just like I was at the party." He assured.

Hermione let out an anxious exhale of breath and nodded, "Okay."

Draco gave her a reassuring smile and winked before turning back and opening the door, revealing the three Slytherins.

Pansy stood in the middle, with Blaise and Theo on each side of her. They looked just as intimidating as they did back at Hogwarts, just older, and more mature. Hermione tried steadying her breath, her nerves starting to get the better of her.

"We missed you, Draco!" Pansy exclaimed, hugging him.

"It's nice to see you mate." Blaise nodded.

"It's been forever!" Theo patted him on the back as they all walked in.

"Yeah–it's nice to see you all as well." He cleared his throat, causing Pansy to let go of him.

They all made their way to the sofa. Draco sat next to Hermione, while the other three Slytherins sat across from them.

Draco glanced at Hermione, who was anxiously biting her nails. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, smiling at her.

"I'm not leaving. You're safe." He whispered.

"Keep holding my hand, please." She replied, squeezing his back.

He nodded.

"Mate, how have you been hiding from the Ministry for this long?" Theo asked, leaning forward.

"I don't go out much, and when I do, it's usually at night." Draco shrugged. "My house elf also helps run errands."

"And why did you wait so long to tell us you came back?" Pansy crossed her arms, looking annoyed. "We starting worrying about you."

"Because, I had other things to take care of, Pansy." He rolled his eyes and sighed. "I get busy. Not everything revolves around you."

Pansy pouted and leaned back into the sofa, looking away from him.

Hermione felt like a ghost. No one looked in her direction, or spoke a single word to her, but she couldn't help but feel a bit relieved about it.

Draco seemed to have noticed and squeezed her hand again as he spoke, "Sorry, I should've introduced you to–"

"Granger, we know." Blaise finished and turned to Hermione and nodded in acknowledgement.

"I don't mean to be rude, but why is she here?" Theo asked.

Hermione fidgeted with her fingers in her lap. She wanted the couch to swallow her up. She wanted to disappear on the spot. Of course she wasn't a welcomed guest in their eyes. She definitely wasn't meant to be in front of Draco's friends. She felt inferior to them. Just sitting in front of them made her feel below them.

Draco smiled down at Hermione but straightened his face when he looked back at Theo. "She's staying with me. She apparated here on accident and got injured. And I refuse to let a pregnant witch–"

"Pregnant?!" Pansy exclaimed. "You got her pregnant?"

Hermione's cheeks grew a dark shade of magenta. Her stomach dropped in embarrassment as she squeezed Draco's hand harder.

Draco clenched his jaw and eyed Pansy. "No."

Blaise and Theo's eyes widened as they exchanged glances.

"No? Then whose is it?" Pansy glared at Hermione, who tried to avoid it.

Hermione looked down at her lap and cleared her throat, "Ronald Weasley's."

"Weasley?!" They all exclaimed.

Hermione looked at Draco, a pleading look on her face.

"Granger," Draco cleared his throat and looked down at her. "Tell them about your previous job at the Ministry."

"But Draco–" She breathed. She wanted his help, but she didn't know he'd make her keep talking to change the subject.

"Tell them." His jaw clenched again, his thumb rubbing her hand, comforting her.

Hermione swallowed.

"You worked at the Ministry?" Blaise raised an eyebrow.

"Y-yes." Hermione responded. "I worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. After the war, I became a secretary and worked my way up the ranks. But when Ron died," She took a deep breath, "I took bereavement leave and just never showed back up."

"Interesting." Theo stated.

Hermione glanced over to Pansy, who was staring daggers into Draco and her. She quickly looked away and back into her lap.

"So, how did Weasley die?" Theo asked.

"Quidditch accident." Hermione mumbled.

"Shame." Blaise said.

"Yeah," Hermione felt her bottom lip quiver. "It is."

"Draco," Pansy spoke up. "Can I talk to you in the kitchen?"

Everyone furrowed their eyebrows as she stood up and straightened her dress.

Draco exchanged looks with Hermione and then looked at Pansy. "Why?"

"A quick catch up." She replied.

Draco looked at Hermione, who nodded. "It could be important, Draco." She whispered.

"I'll be back." He replied.

Hermione smiled faintly. "Okay."

Draco got up off of the sofa and followed Pansy into the kitchen.

"So, how far along are you, Granger?" Draco heard Theo ask Hermione as he entered the kitchen.

Pansy leaned against the counter, glaring at him.

"What do you want, Pansy?" He sighed.

"Granger? Out of all people, you choose Granger?!" She hissed. "A muggleborn?!"

"What's it to you, Parkinson?! Why the hell do you care?" Draco hissed back.

"She's not even pregnant with your child!" She replied. "You really want to be a father to a blood traitor's baby?!"

"Parkinson..." He raked a hand through his hair.

"Do your parents know?" She approached Draco, looking up at him. "Do they know you plan on raising a half-blood? Do they know you plan on having a Weasley baby as the next heir of the Malfoy estate?!"

"Blood purity doesn't matter to me anymore, Pansy." Draco growled.

"It should when it comes to a Malfoy." She snapped. "You'll ruin your image."

"You really think I care about my image now?!" Draco raised his voice, anger taking over. "Why the fuck would I care about my fucking image? I'm hiding from the Ministry, secluding myself in this damn Manor, and all you could worry about is my image?"

"I worry about you, Draco." Pansy said softly, touching his shoulder. Draco stepped away from her.

"You're worried about my family name, not me." He swallowed. "Hermione is the best thing that has happened to me in years, and it just so happened that she arrived with a plus one." He narrowed his eyes at her. "If associating myself with muggleborns is an issue for you, you can leave." His voice was serious and laced with poison. "This isn't the world is used to be, Parkinson. Voldemort is gone, and the Death Eaters no longer rule."

"You've changed." She breathed.

"People do that, you should too." He retorted, turning away to leave the kitchen.

"That's pathetic of you." Pansy swallowed. "Raising a baby that doesn't have a single drop of your blood in it."

Draco stopped in the doorway of the kitchen and spun around, glaring at her. "It's a girl, refer to her as one." He growled.

She snorted. "Even more pathetic. A girl Granger-Weasley, daughter of a muggleborn and blood traitor, with a wealthy pure blood as a so called father."

"She doesn't have to have my blood in her for me to love her just as much as a biological child. She has Hermione's blood in her, and that's the part I adore." Draco clenched his jaw, trying not to unleash anymore of his anger.

"Are we done?" He snapped.

Pansy sucked her teeth and eyed him up and down. "Yeah, I think we are."


	29. Chapter 29

"Good." Draco growled. "You will not disrespect me under my roof, and you will certainly not disrespect Granger. Is that understood?"

Pansy clenched her jaw and glared at him. "Blood Traitor."

Draco grabbed her face roughly, the metal of his rings that decorated his fingers dug into her skin painfully. Her eyes widened as she winced.

"Say it again, and I swear, I promise you, I'll leave you to rot in this kitchen. Your blood is just as filthy as mine. I wouldn't dare touch it if I had to." He spat.

He let go of her face and spun around, leaving her stuck in a state of bewilderment.

Draco came out of the kitchen, straightening his blazer, Pansy followed behind. They both had matching expressions of hatred decorating their faces.

He couldn't believe the audacity Pansy had. Why did she care so much about his life? This wasn't Hogwarts and they weren't children anymore. He no longer felt anything for Pansy like he did in his youth.

"You're a bit small for being almost five months along." Blaise stated.

"Yeah." Hermione sighed. "The healer stated she might be a small baby." She frowned as she looked down at her stomach. "I kind of blame myself. I haven't been taking the best care of my body since I've been pregnant."

"And why not?" Theo raised an eyebrow.

"Lately, everything's been stressful." Hermione shrugged. "I tend not to focus on myself when I'm stressed. I always want to make sure everyone else is okay first."

Theo and Blaise glanced sideways at each other, then glanced at Draco and Pansy as they approached.

"Sorry about that." Draco muttered, sitting next to Hermione.

"Yeah, it was important." Pansy mumbled, folding her arms across her chest.

Hermione smiled shyly at him and noticed his glare at Pansy. She frowned.

"You don't look too happy." She whispered, concerned. She saw Blaise and Theo whisper to Pansy, and turned back to Draco. "What happened?"

"Nothing." He replied through clenched teeth. "Some people don't like minding their own business." His eyes snapped to Pansy and back at Hermione.

"Theo, Blaise, I think we should go." Pansy stood back up and cleared her throat.

"Why?" Theo raised an eyebrow.

"Dinner hasn't been made yet." Blaise added.

"Because we aren't as welcomed here as we thought we were." She snapped, her voice laced with anger.

Theo and Blaise glanced at Draco and Hermione. Draco stared blankly at the three of them, while Hermione looked down into her lap.

"Feel free." Draco chuckled. "Maybe we can catch up another time."

"Next time, don't invite me." Pansy snarled.

Theo and Blaise stood up, confused looks on both of their faces.

"Well, mate, maybe we can catch up soon then." Blaise said, following Pansy to the door.

"I'm glad you're back." Theo patted him on the shoulder, before making his way to the door.

"Yeah. Thanks." Draco smiled thinly, watching them leave.

As soon as the door shut, Hermione snapped her head towards Draco.

"What happened?"

He shrugged and leaned back into the sofa. "Nothing important. I took care of it."

Hermione bit her tongue. Draco didn't seem in the mood to talk about it and she definitely wasn't going to push him.

He hated seeing him like this. He didn't look angry. He looked more pained and worried.

Draco rubbed his forehead and squeezed Hermione's hand. He studied her face and inhaled deeply through his nose, as he took in every feature.

"You know I don't care about blood, right?" His voice was raspy and quiet, almost like he didn't want anyone to overhear him.

It took a moment for the words to register in Hermione's mind. She swallowed before she whispered, "I know."

Draco's heart pounded painfully in his chest. At least he knew he wasn't dead yet. He had slowly realized that as much as he adored and worshipped Hermione, he wanted to own her, break her, keep her as his forever. It was like a feral instinct that wasn't able to be easily ignored.

She deserved to be treated like a goddess, like a queen, and shown off like a Van Gough painting. He wanted to take her to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss her in every beautiful place, so that she can never be with anyone else without tasting him like blood in her mouth. He wanted to destroy her in the most beautiful way possible.

Hermione stared out of the enormous windows again, watching the sun set, the golden rays of light created a beautiful orange hue in the sitting room. Hermione watched the rose bushes slowly dance in the breeze. They were still blue.

"Have the roses caught your eye again?" Draco snorted, laying a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"They just–stand out." She replied. "I think roses are amazing flowers."

Draco put his chin on her shoulder, staring out the window with her. "Tell me more."

Hermione turned from the window and kissed his cheek. "Well, I think it's amazing that something so beautiful can be so painful to touch."

As the words came from her mouth, Hermione noticed how her skin always burned underneath Draco's touch. He seemed to send electricity through her body every time he made contact with her. Draco was as beautiful as a rose, but as painful as a thorn, and she was the stem–she held the two together.

Some say beauty is pain, but no one ever says how painful it really is. And they don't seem to mention that everyone takes pain differently. Loving Draco didn't hurt, but wanting to open herself up to him further did. She wanted to be even closer to him than she was with Ron, but neither of them wanted to speak about their pasts, because they have been on opposite sides since birth.

They were so different from each other on the outside, but Hermione and Draco both knew they were exactly the same on the inside. They were both broken, bruised and in need of mending.

It wasn't necessarily the war that had done this either. She was doing just fine until Ron passed. Everything was going great. However, when she was coming home to Ron everyday, Draco was being tortured and beaten, only having his parents for support. While Hermione was joking with Harry and the Weasleys, Draco was wondering if he'd wake up alive or not.

Hermione felt her chest tighten and her breathing become uneven and shaky. Draco didn't deserve any of this. He didn't deserve to be tortured, he didn't deserve to have to seclude himself in this Manor and hide from the Ministry. It wasn't fair.

Hermione took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Everyone always stops to smell the roses, they always want to pick from the rose bush, but they stop once they realize it has thorns. It's a defense mechanism. Roses don't want to be picked, but people find ways around the thorns."

"Some roses are just too beautiful to leave behind." Draco responded, playing with Hermione's hair.

Hermione looked back at him, seeing the edges of his lips curve into a smile. She wanted to stay like this. She wanted him to hold her forever, because that's where she felt the safest. Even when blood stained his hands, she felt like no one could harm her when he embraced her.

"How are your wounds?" Hermione asked, turning away from the window.

"I'll be fine. The house elf gave me some potions to heal them." He replied.

"What held you back from killing her on your doorstep? Why did you wait until I was injured to do anything to Estelle?" Hermione's curiosity couldn't be contained. She wanted to know.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek and fumbled with his rings, twisting them around his fingers. "I didn't want you to see me kill someone." He let out a faint snort, "kind of backfired though, didn't it?"

"Draco, I know you've killed people, I know you aren't a saint." Hermione said.

"Yeah, you know I've killed people, but you've never seen me do it–until Estelle showed up. You know there's blood on my hands, but you've never seen me covered in it until that bitch decided to appear." A look of disgust spread across his face as he remembered Estelle's unwelcome visit.

"I hope you heal fast." Hermione smiled.

"You too." He smiled back, his eyes flickered down Hermione's body. "How about we go upstairs and you show me what's underneath these clothes?"

As he finished his sentence, Hermione's insides felt like fireflies out on a warm summer's night. The urgent, flashing, yellow-white light of pleasure inside of her went crazy with desire.

Their lips impacted each other. It was like ever since she had decided to stay, a spark had lit between them. They were starved and wanted to make up for all the times they've missed. They were too focused on love, that they had forgotten lust had existed.

She was darkness and he was darkness and there had never been anything before this time, only darkness and his lips upon her. She tried to speak and his mouth was over hers again. Every time he kissed her, she had a wild thrill such as she had never known; joy, fear, madness, excitement, surrender to arms that were too strong, lips too bruising, fate that moved too fast.

Draco pulled away, his lips bruised and swollen from the intense make out session, and picked Hermione up bridal style, nibbling her neck as he walked upstairs with her.

When they reached the library, Draco pushed the door open and sat Hermione down on the dresser, kissing her bruised lips again, biting and tugging on her bottom lip as he pulled her sweater off.

He stood between her legs, his hands grabbing the waist band of her jeans. "Lift your hips for me, love."

She obeyed, lifting her hips as he slid her pants down, revealing her figure in the lingerie Draco had gotten her. He caressed her cheek, taking in every once of her beautiful being.

"I'm glad I kept the outfit." He winked. "You look marvelous."

"Thank you." Hermione murmured.

"My pleasure." He smirked, nibbling her neck and moving to her collar bone. She gasped and entangled her hand in his hair.

"Did I just find your sweet spot?" He laughed, biting at Hermione's collarbones again, her fist gripping his hair tightly.

She threw her head back as he continued kissing down her body. He looked her in the eyes as he got down on his knees and pushed her knickers to the side. Hermione shuddered slightly as the cold air hit between her legs.

She looked down at Draco, who smirked mischievously back at her from between her thighs.

"Don't look away, mi amor." He ordered. "I want to see your eyes roll in the back of your head when you come for me."

Hermione let out a shattered breath in response. His voice was deep, raspy and needy, turning her on even more.

His head dipped and his lips found the soft smooth flesh of her inner thigh. He kissed and licked it. As he moved his lips to the other thigh he blew lightly over the pink valley between. His lips then caressed the flesh of her other thigh, slowly moving upward toward the sweetness he craved. He stopped for a moment and inhaled the scent of her. Her fingertips found his hair, guiding him to her.

"You always tease me." She breathed.

She felt Draco chuckle between her legs, sending pleasurable vibrations throughout her body.

He was in his happy place, totally enjoying her, the scent, the taste, the feel of her against his lips and tongue. His tongue moved, up and down, side to side, his lips now coated with her juices. She was already sensitive from their play and when his tongue flicked against her clit, she squirmed and let out a whimper of pleasure. He moved down again, this time pushing his tongue into that slick sweet tunnel of pleasure.

He felt her hands grip his hair a bit tighter as his tongue pushed in and out.

"Fuck–Draco, don't...stop." Hermione moaned as his lips now encircled that sensitive nub of flesh at the top.

He loved hearing her moans and whimpers. She sounded so needy, so desperate. Her body was his and his body was hers.

"Tell me you're mine." He breathed, coming up to her face, their noses centimeters apart.

"I'm...yours...all yours..." She panted, crashing her lips onto his.

Their tongues wrestled with each other, their saliva mixing in each other's mouths. Draco pulled away, a string of spit still connecting them.

His eyes flickered from her lips to her eyes. "Quiero que me pintes la cara, mi amor. (I want you to paint my face, my love.)"

Hermione smiled as he got down between her legs, not breaking his eye contact.

He gently sucked her clit and the tip of his tongue teased against it. She was more animated now, her hips rising, the sounds of her pleasure increasing in volume. He knew she was getting close and he slipped two fingers into the hot wetness and began moving them in and out as his lips and tongue ministered to her clit.

His fingers pushed deeper, hooking up, finding that special spot that would push her over the edge.

"Draco! Fuck, I'm going to–" She cried out his name, her body quivered and one hand gripped his hair and the other clung tightly onto the dresser's edge. He kept going, giving her as much pleasure as he could. His tongue flicked and she quivered as little aftershocks pulsed through her body.

He was grinning as he lifted up, his face awash with her wetness. He nuzzled his nose in her messy, mane of hair and kissed the top of head head and trailed back down. He kissed her neck and kissed each breast, rolling his tongue around her taut nipples, causing her to whimper softly. He then made his way to her little baby bump and kissed it, then looked back up at her.

"What?" She laughed.

"You are absolutely amazing, Granger." He grinned.

And then their lips were together in another long delicious kiss.

"Wait." Hermione pulled away, her lips numb from kissing.

"What?" Draco asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Let me pleasure you now, Draco. You've done enough for me." She replied, sliding herself off of the dresser.

"Hermione, what–"

She dropped to her knees, undoing his belt.

"Hermione, please, you don't–"

"Draco, you deserve something back. I don't want you pleasuring me all the time. You deserve to feel good too."

He looked down at her and sighed, brushing her hair out of her face and holding it back.

"Fine. Mouth for a mouth." He laughed.

Hermione smiled as she finished undoing his belt, pulling out his hard, throbbing cock. It matched his skin color; pale, almost translucent, with slight purple veins running down it. It was thick, and long. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, a low hissing noise came from his mouth as she did so. Her thumb wiped off the access of pre-cum that dripped from his tip.

Draco tugged a little on her hair, looking down at her. She stared back at him as she took him inside of her mouth. She heard Draco groan a low fuck...as she did.

"You look so pretty with your mouth around my cock, Granger." He praised, his voice was low and raspy, making Hermione go faster.

Draco's grip on her hair tightened as he through his head back, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

Hermione took as much as she could in, licking and swirling her tongue around the head of his shaft, and using her unoccupied hand to pump where her mouth couldn't reach.

"Good girl, just like that." He breathed, throwing his head back again. "Fuck."

Hermione continued using her mouth and tongue around him, until she felt him twitch and pulse inside. He bit his lip hard, drawing blood as his hot liquid shot down her throat.

She swallowed it, feeling accomplished.

"Come here." Draco chuckled, pulling Hermione to her feet and kissing her deeply. She could taste the blood from his lips in her mouth. Fireworks of desire and passion shot through the atmosphere. She felt like she was face to face with a wildfire; it was hot and intense.

They both pulled away from each other's lips and searched each other's eyes.

"You know, your eyes are like molten gold, Mione." He whispered. "They're absolutely captivating. You're a piece of artwork, you know that?"

Hermione glanced down at the floor and snorted, "Then you must be my museum."


	30. Chapter 30

Hermione leaned against the railing of the balcony. Draco's room was the only place that had this beautiful space, and she finally had decided to use it. 

She stared up at the clear, starry night sky. She breathed in the fresh air, feeling it burn pleasantly in her lungs. The air was better up here; lighter.

As she admired the stars, she wondered why Draco was always insisting that he pleasure her without anything in return. It was like he really did worship her, but she didn't want to be worshipped, she wasn't worthy of that amount of love. She just wanted to be wanted. 

Hermione compared herself now to how she was a couple months ago. Past Hermione would've hated her at this moment, because why would someone like her be with someone like him? Why did she find Draco Malfoy so absolutely mesmerizing?

She was happy here. She felt like an ethereal being when she was here. Draco made her feel okay. She wanted to feel like this forever. However, a part of her told her that this was only temporary, that she didn't deserve to be happy for too long. Because if she were happy for too long, something bad would happen. And you can't have a good time without a bad event. 

She rested her elbows on the railing and studied the sky. She liked the stars. They were the illusion of permanence. They were always flaring up and caving in and going out. But from here, she could pretend. Pretend that things last. She could pretend that lives lasted longer than moments. But she knew mortals, such as her and Draco, flicker and flash and fade. Worlds don't last; and stars and galaxies are transient, fleeting things that twinkle like fireflies and vanish into cold and dust. But she could pretend.

"Are you still out here?" Draco's voice made Hermione turn around and face the glass sliding doors that led back into his bedroom. 

"Yeah." Hermione replied. 

Draco walked out onto the balcony and stood next to her, leaning on the railing and looked up at the sky. 

"I don't blame you, it's a beautiful night." He snorted.

"It's a full moon." Hermione stared at the bright circle in the sky. 

"That's when it's the most beautiful." Draco said. "Everything is lit up without the sun." 

Hermione watched as Draco reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He pulled one out and put it in his mouth, lighting it, blowing the white translucent smoke out into the air. Hermione watched it swirl and fade into the night. 

"Since when do you smoke?" She raised an eyebrow. 

"I have for a while. I only smoke up here. You're never in my room, so you never see it." He replied. 

Hermione went to open her mouth, but closed it again. She wasn't going to tell him it was bad for him, because of course he knew that. He was coping. He only knew pain, so what was another unhealthy habit? And after what he had endured in France, how else was he going to cope?

She turned back at the stars and pressed her lips together. "It's kind of strange, isn't it?" 

"What is?" Draco flicked the cigarette over the balcony to get rid of the growing ashes. 

"Here we are, thinking that this night is lovely, with the full moon," She looked out into the horizon and frowned. "While others are dreading it."

Draco took another drag of his cigarette and followed Hermione's eyes into the horizon. "There's always two sides of a coin."

Hermione let out a soft exhale through her nose. He was right. Every coin had a heads and a tails. But she couldn't help but feel guilty. She felt like it wasn't right to enjoy the night when others were suffering in it. 

She remembered Remus. He hated these nights. She missed him. He was one of the best teachers Hogwarts ever had, and one of Harry's best tutors. She couldn't help but wonder if there were others like him; others that didn't ask to be werewolves. Others that had no choice. 

"Do you see any constellations?" Draco asked. 

She shook herself from her thoughts. "Hm? Oh, no. I dropped divination in third year, so I never really looked into them. It didn't quite catch my interest. Plus, Professor Trelawany was a fraud." 

Draco chuckled at the sudden crudeness of her voice. "Divination was my favorite class." 

Hermione turned her head towards him. "It was?" 

"Yeah." He nodded. "The stars, and planets just really intrigued me. I loved the stars, because they can't say anything. Because they don't judge anyone. I could stare up at them forever, and not feel like I'm being stared back at." 

Hermione studied him. He was damaged, unhinged and broken, but so were shooting stars and comets. They were both just fragments of something bigger, and they needed each other to put themselves back together. They were a jigsaw puzzle with no instructions; no manual. 

"You must know more about the universe than I do." She smiled softly. 

"I don't know about that." He snorted. "But I do know that the group of stars right there," Draco pointed up into the sky, Hermione's eyes followed, seeing a small gathering of white, twinkling stars. "That's mine. Draco." 

"You were named after a constellation?" Hermione's furrowed her brows. 

"Most of my family is." He smiled faintly. "I always thought it was interesting to be named after a part of the universe."

Hermione looked at him, her eyes flickered towards the cigarette between his fingers. He looked even more attractive when he was doing something he shouldn't be. She felt the edges of her lips curve into a slight smile. She thought everything that this man did was attractive, good and bad. 

What do you do when the one person you want comfort from the most, is the one who caused you the most pain? What do you do when the person you're falling madly in love with, hated your guts in the beginning? 

Hermione clung tightly onto the railing. She wanted to stay, but she was petrified that Draco would leave first. She knew Draco was struggling mentally. Even though they pinky promised, she couldn't stop worrying about him. He needed to stay alive as much as she wanted to stay with him. 

She frowned. She had realized that there was a good chance that she would probably end up loving him without him for much longer than she loved him when she knew him.

She was scared she hadn't known him for long enough. She was scared he'd be gone before she could know what his favorite color was, his favorite food, and his favorite things to do. 

She wished she knew what curses they had used on Draco in France. She wanted to know how much time she had left with him. She hoped and prayed that the curses didn't have life long effects, but only time would tell.

"This might sound absolutely stupid," Draco grinned. "But I've always wanted to be an astronaut." 

Hermione laughed, "Was a wizard not enough?"

Draco grinned and put out his cigarette. "Magic has its limits, Granger. We can do a lot more things in life with it, but we can't leave this world with it, and that's why I wanted to be an astronaut. That way, when I got sick of this world," He searched the starry sky as he swallowed. "I could go to the next."

"Aliens are pretty lucky then." She chuckled. 

"Extremely." He smiled. 

"Can you tell me more about the constellations, Draco?" Hermione asked. 

"You really want to know?" He raised an eyebrow. "I thought it was never an interest for you."

"Well, when it comes from you, I don't mind."

Draco saw the shy smile form on Hermione's face. Every time he saw her happy, he wanted to crush her against him. He wanted to be part of her. Not just inside her but all around her. He wanted their rib cages to crack open and their hearts to migrate and merge. He wanted their cells to braid together like living thread. When he thought about the way she laughed, as though she owned the air around her, his heart thundered inside his chest. It felt good, it felt amazing. 

"Well," Draco's eyes searched the night. "That one is Orion." He pointed to the center of the speckled sky. 

Hermione smiled as she gazed up at the little group of stars. She was able to see the shape. At that moment, she had forgotten all about the world around her, just the one above.

Being around Draco made everything disappear. Any bad feeling she had would go away, and any second thoughts would fade. 

After a while, Draco turned to Hermione. "I have something to show you." 

"I'm not surprised." She laughed. "There is so much of this Manor I haven't even seen yet."

"I know." He snorted. "Follow me."

He leaned off of the railing and grabbed Hermione's hand, pulling her gently back inside his room, and out into the hall.

"I've wanted to show you this for a while, but I couldn't find the perfect time." He said as they walked to a room that was located between the library and Draco's bedroom. The door was white and elegant, with gold lining around it.

"What is this?" One of Hermione eyebrows lifted. 

"Open it." Draco smiled. 

She stared at him suspiciously, her eyebrows furrowing, as she slowly turned the crystal doorknob. 

She slowly walked in and was met with a bedroom, but it wasn't any bedroom, it was a nursery. 

Her jaw fell open as she admired every inch of the room. Everything was drenched in a dark, royal purple and had a Victorian touch to it. She almost felt like she stepped back in time the longer she gazed around. 

In the middle of the room, there sat a purple bassinet. Hermione approached it slowly, and touched it carefully. It was lined with satin. And above it, a small mobile that had little dragons attached to strings that flew around, making it spin. 

Seeing all of this, overwhelmed her. She was going to have a baby, she was going to be a mother, and Draco was going to be a part of it. 

She sat down in the vintage, purple rocking chair, as her head started to spin. All of this made her dizzy. 

"Are you okay, Mione?" Draco furrowed his eyebrows and approached her. 

She blinked a few times. "Y-you did all of this?" 

He looked around and snorted. "With the help of a little magic, yes." 

"It's amazing, Draco." She said. "You did all of this for a baby Weasley?" 

He looked down at the floor and smiled. "No," He looked into her eyes. "I did all of this for a baby Granger. That baby is not all Weasley. You're carrying her, you deserve the credit." 

"I don't think I deserve all this. How did you make time to even do this?" She was in awe. Never in her life, would she have seen the day that Draco Malfoy, her past arch nemesis, would build an entire nursery for a baby that wasn't his. 

"I've been working on it ever since Ms. Frium told you it was a girl." He replied. 

"But we weren't even close then." 

"It gave me something to do, something to work on. I didn't care if we hated each other, I just wanted to make you comfortable, because I didn't know how long you'd stay." 

"Draco," She stood up from the rocking chair and threw her arms around him. "Thank you." She whispered, tears filling her eyes. 

Draco squeezed his eyes shut tight, stopping the tears from forming in his ducts. "You're welcome." He breathed. 

She pulled away and looked up at him, his grey eyes sparkled more than she had ever seen them. They had a light to them. A light she had never seen before. 

"What does this mean?" She asked quietly. 

"It means that I want this baby as much as I want you, Hermione. I don't care if she isn't mine, I don't care if she has Weasley blood, because she's got your blood in her as well, and that's the part I love. I love this baby just as much as I love you. I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting you to come with an extra, but two is better than one, right?" Draco bit his lip. He didn't want to smile just yet. He didn't want to get his hopes up. 

"Do you really want this?" She asked. "We're both so young. I can't do much with a child, but what if you want to travel, or fulfill your life? Do you really want to be stuck raising my child?" 

"Our child." He corrected. "And I'm fulfilling my life by being with you. There's nothing else I want to do." 

Hermione gazed up at the god before her. "Draco..." 

He cupped her face in both of his hands. "Let me do this, please." He took a drop breath. "I-I love you. I fucking love you. With every ounce of my being, I absolutely and utterly love you. I hate the word love, because it's not long enough to describe my feelings towards you, but Hermione Granger, I fucking love you." 

Hermione felt all of the air leave her body. This man had just told her he loved her. She was scared. She was petrified. She didn't think she was worthy of love. Not after everything that happened to her. Not after everyone she deeply cared about was taken from her, one by one.  
Love betrayed her before, and she didn't want it to happen again. 

"And now I'm looking at you," Draco continued, "and you're asking me if I still want you, as if I could stop loving you. As if I would want to give up the thing that makes me stronger than anything else ever has. I never dared give much of myself to anyone before – bits of myself to the Pansy, to Theo and Blaise, but it took years to do it – but, Hermione, since the first time I saw you, I have belonged to you completely. I still do. If you want me."

She stared at him, taking in all of his features. She wanted him, oh she wanted him. However, she knew that falling for him, was like falling in a rose bush. It looked inviting, lovely, but as soon as you were in it, the thorns would hook into your skin, and cause you pain. She didn't want pain, she just wanted Draco. But no matter what, both of them came with unnecessary bruising. 

Being here with Draco made Hermione realize that she hadn't even blossomed yet. If she was a rose, her petals weren't showing yet, just the thorns and stem. But she didn't want to show her petals just yet, because what if someone plucked them off? 

Draco smiled down at her. She was the closest thing to happiness he'd ever known. To him she seemed so beautiful, so seductive, so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he was by the clicking of her heels on the paving stones, why no one else's heart was wild with the breeze stirred by the sighs of her veils, why everyone did not go mad with the movements of her bushy hair, the flight of her hands, the gold of her laughter. He had not missed a single one of her gestures, not one of the indications of her character, but he did not dare approach her for fear of destroying the spell. She had him absolutely bewitched, and he didn't want it to go away. 

He kissed the top of her head. She smelled like cinnamon and honey. She always smelled like cinnamon and honey. It teased his nostrils. 

"I want you, Draco." She said after a long moment of silence. "And I want to stay, because I love you too." 

Draco felt his knees weaken as the last words left Hermione's mouth. It was like pure bliss. 

"Say it again." He whispered, his voice almost giving out in him. 

"I love you, Draco Malfoy." She smiled. 

He grinned widely and pulled her into his arms, spinning her around. 

"Draco!" She laughed. 

He set her down, smiling like a complete idiot. 

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to hear those words come out of your mouth." He said. 

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to say them." She giggled. 

Draco kissed her cheek and trailed down. "You're mine, angel," he murmured, brushing the words across her jawbone as she arched her neck higher, inviting him to kiss everywhere. "You have me forever."

He nibbled her collarbone, making Hermione gasp softly and pulled away. 

"Later." He winked.

She grew hot again. Her skin light up like a wildfire. This man activated her so easily, it was almost scary. 

Hermione looked around the room once again. It was extravagant. The purple curtains that covered the window sparkled in the moonlight. She looked back at Draco, who had been watching her look around, his knuckle to his lips. 

She couldn't help but notice that when Draco had control over things, he chose purple. Such as the dress he had picked out that night for the party, and everything in this nursery was a deep purple. 

"Is purple your favorite color?" She asked. 

"How could you tell?" He chuckled. 

"Lucky guess." She laughed. 

Suddenly, Hermione felt a strange flutter in her lower abdomen. She jumped a little. 

"What?" Draco asked, not bothering to hide the slight panic in his voice. 

She grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on her stomach. He looked at her, his eyebrows twisted with confusion. 

"The baby," Hermione said smiling, "She kicked."


	31. Chapter 31

Draco felt a little push against his hand. He looked at Hermione, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted in awe

"Holy fuck." He breathed.

Hermione laughed. "It's absolutely mad, isn't it?"

"It just doesn't feel real..." He trailed off, admiring Hermione's bump. "I can't believe you're making another person in there."

Hermione smiled. "Me neither."

As much as Hermione was excited, she was still scared. Even though Draco said he'd be there for her, she didn't know if she was ready to be a mother. She was a mess, and so was Draco. How can two tornados keep themselves from destroying everything in their path? How can two broken people keep a child from shattering?

This planet was a broken bone that didn't set right, a hundred pieces of crystal glued together. They've been shattered and reconstructed, told to make an effort every single day to pretend they could still function the way they were supposed to. But they couldn't. It was impossible, because neither of them wanted to open up. Neither of them wanted to make the first step to heal.

Hermione and Draco barely made a dent in trying to mend each other, and she didn't want Draco and her to be as damaged when the baby arrived. If they were going to put each other back together, they had a time limit.

Draco looked around the nursery and back at Hermione, a small half smirk on his face.

"I love it." she said, seeming to read his expression.

"Good." He kissed her forehead and straightened himself. "Now," he cleared his throat, and tucked a strand of Hermione's hair behind her ear. "We should get to bed. You need your beauty sleep. Merlin knows a goddess needs her rest."

Hermione bit back a small laugh. His small compliments and offhand remarks formed a new scripture, and in breathless conversations and lonely, dream-drunk nights, she could've built whole theologies from them.

"Before we go to bed," She grabbed his wrist, searching his face. She felt her nerves activate and flare up as she spoke, "I want you to name this baby."

His eyes widened in surprise, his lips agape.

"Excuse me?" He shook his head in disbelief.

"Draco, if you're going to help me with this baby, I want you to have a say in things like this."

"Hermione...I really don't–"

"Think about it." She cut him off. "I'll give you time."

"How much?"

"We'll see." She smirked.

"Hermione..." Draco trailed off.

He loved her, he loved this baby, but he was scared. He didn't want to be his father. He wanted to be the father he never had. He didn't want to be distant, or cold. He didn't want to repeat the cycle.

-

Warning: Sexual Assault mention!

Hermione slowly opened her eyes, the glass ceiling showing a barely sunlit sky. It was early dawn, the sun casted light yellow streaks that faded into purple as it slowly rose over the horizon.

She sat up and yawned. She was usually never up this early, but maybe it was because she didn't feel the need to hide anymore. Sleep used to be a way for her to ignore everything around her, but now, she didn't want to avoid her surroundings. Instead, she wanted to explore them.

Hermione's lips curved faintly upwards. She was slowly gaining herself back. She was slowly becoming Hermione again.

She yawned once more and stretched, sliding out of bed and making her way out into the hall.

The hall was a little chilly, causing Hermione to cling onto the hemline of her oversized shirt, twisting her fists into the fabric as she kept her limbs close to retain heat. Even in the early spring, the Manor was skin prickling cold.

She made her way downstairs, a little surprised as she found the sofa empty. Draco wasn't writing in his notebook like he usually did every morning.

Hermione played with the hemline of her shirt nervously, no longer distracted by the crisp chilly air. She wanted Draco, but he wasn't where she had always seen him.

She carefully made her way past the couch and into the kitchen, hoping Blimbey would know.

Instead of seeing the house elf, Hermione was met with Draco, who was leaning against the counter, sipping from a white mug in his hand. She let out a small sigh of relief.

He was in a plain white t shirt that showed off his defined torso and grey sweatpants, making it hard for Hermione to pull her eyes away from him. His hair was slightly messy, but he raked a hand through to fix it. He was stunning even at six in the morning.

"Good morning." He greeted, sipping from the mug again.

"Morning." Hermione replied, flashing a quick warm smile at him.

Draco took in every feature of her. Her golden skin sparkled in the small rays of sunlight that shone through the windows of the kitchen. Her big, brown eyes looked at him with love and admiration, something only his parents had ever looked at him with.

The room soon started to fill with the scent of honey and cinnamon. It tickled Draco's nostrils every time he inhaled.

He had always hated cinnamon. He hated spice. But Hermione made him absolutely adore it. The smell, the taste–he loved it all.

"You're up rather early." He stated, an eyebrow raising curiously.

"And you never sleep in." She giggled.

"I can't." He painted a wounded smile on his face. He didn't want to tell her he was too scared to sleep too long. He didn't want her to know that he was still trying to get used to being away from France; away from the torture.

Hermione could see that he was pained. She didn't want to push him this early in the morning and decided to chance the subject.

"I couldn't find you." She said. "You weren't in your usual spot. I thought you had gone somewhere."

Draco set his coffee mug down next to him and folded his muscular arms across his chest. His eyes flickered over Hermione's entire body before smirking. "I wouldn't have gone anywhere before telling you."

"That's good to know." She replied, yawning again.

"I was going to put these by your bedside," Draco turned around, facing the counter and sliding over two mugs. "But since you're here, take your pick."

"What is it?" Hermione asked, peeking in the mugs. Both cups were filled with steaming liquid, one was dark brown, and the other, a light grey.

"Tea and coffee. I didn't know which one you preferred, so I made both." Draco shrugged.

Hermione smiled at Draco and grabbed the mug with the light grey liquid, then looked back up at Draco.

A faint smile started forming on the edges of his lips, seeming to read her expression, he said, "Earl grey tea. With vanilla."

"That sounds lovely." She said, sipping the liquid, feeling the pleasant warmth of it sliding down her throat.

The sun slowly peeked over the horizon, lighting the kitchen with golden rays. It was quiet; peaceful. Hermione let her eyes wander over Draco's body.

He looked like a fallen angel, replete with all the dangerous male beauty that Lucifer could devise. He was always so beautiful. How was he so effortlessly handsome?

He looked relaxed, still leaning against the counter, holding his coffee cup, and looking back at Hermione, his eyebrows furrowed with amusement as he watched her gawk at him.

They watched each other's every breath, every moment, possessed with an illusion of glamor, of filthy decadence, purely because it was theirs, the two of them were their own radical world, a star collapsing inward and bursting, gorgeous, in the dark.

"The window is over there, Granger." He chuckled, pointing towards the windows that decorated the kitchen.

"I like this view." She replied, sipping her mug again, not tearing away from his eyes.

"If you don't watch yourself, I might just fuck you right on this countertop." He smirked.

"I wouldn't mind." She winked.

She was a bit surprised with her remarks this early in the morning. She was never one to be so snarky, but she loved matching Draco's energy.

"A bit bold this morning, are we?" He raised an eyebrow. "We'll see about that after I finish my coffee."

Hermione felt her chest grow butterflies. Their wings fluttered in her lungs, hindering her breathing. The fluttering moved downwards towards her lower abdomen, reaching between her thighs. She gulped down the hot tea, hoping it would cancel it out.

Just then, an owl flew in the kitchen, making Hermione and Draco tear their attention from each other, and dropped a bundle into Draco's hands.

"What's that?" She looked over Draco's shoulder, watching him unfold the bundle.

"The Daily Prophet." He replied.

"You get the Daily Prophet?"

"Just recently. Care to read it with me?"

"Without your glasses?" She laughed.

Draco playfully glared at her. "Very funny, Granger."

"Oh, back with the surnames, are we Malfoy?"

"Don't call me that." His voice was a playful, yet firm and stern tone. It always turned Hermione on.

He sighed and sipped from his mug again. "They make reading easier, yes, but all I have is a stigmatism. Plus, putting them on this early gives me headaches."

"Yeah, yeah, I believe you." Hermione waved a dismissive hand.

"So, Granger," He cleared his throat, setting the cup down on the counter.

"So, Malfoy," Hermione mocked.

He closed his eyes slowly and inhaled deeply, praying for an ounce of patience.

"It is way too early, Hermione." He rubbed his forehead. "You're lucky I don't spank your ass in this kitchen. Pregnant and all."

Her eyes widened slightly at those words. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

His lips soften into a smile that cracks apart her spine. He repeats her name like the word amuses him. Entertains him. Delights him.

Draco liked seeing her reaction to words like that. He liked watching her get flustered all because of words and not touch.

"So," Draco smirked triumphantly, proud of himself that he finally made her speechless for once. "Would you like to read the paper with me?"

Hermione struggled with her words. They came out as breathless whispers, until she cleared her throat. "I'd love to."

"There we go." Draco chuckled. "The queen has spoken."

"Shut up." She laughed.

Hermione hadn't read The Daily Prophet since Ron had died. She always hated the false news sources they'd use sometimes, mixed with Rita Skeeter's gossip and bias opinions, but nonetheless, she wanted to know what was going on outside the Manor.

"Come here then." Draco sat down across the chairs of the kitchen table, patting his lap.

Hermione followed, sitting in his lap and leaning against him, watching him unfold the paper and sipped her tea.

  


It was silent as both of them scanned the paper.

"Wait." Hermione said, sitting up.

"Hm?" Draco looked at her, confusion spreading over his face.

She grabbed the paper and pointed to the small article in the corner. "The Ministry is still looking for someone to fill my position. It's been months...."

Draco blinked at her. "Okay..."

"You'd think it would've been filled already." She said flatly.

She skimmed through the article, trying to keep any hint as to why no one was taking the job.

"Potter, he's an auror, isn't he?" Draco spoke up.

"Yeah, why?" Hermione looked over her shoulder, her eyes glanced quickly at his rose petal lips then back up to his sea foam eyes.

"He works in the same department you did. Maybe he thinks you'll be back. I wouldn't put it past him to try to intimidate the people who try to apply for that position, just so it stays open for your return." He explained.

Hermione looked back at the paper and bit her lip nervously. She wouldn't put it past him. She hadn't sent a letter or anything to Harry and Ginny since Draco took her in. Maybe they were worried. Then again, why would they care? They don't have her moping around their house anymore, so why would they want her to go back? She was happy here, she wanted to stay here, but something told her they were suspicious. She felt a pit grow in her stomach. Maybe they knew something was wrong.

She cared about them, she wanted to know how they were and catch up with them, but she liked to be hidden. Being with just Draco reduced her stress that the outside world induced in her.

"You could be right about that. Knowing Harry, he'd seem like that one who'd do that."

Draco let out a soft, sharp exhale through his nostrils. "Of course he would. Potter is infuriating, hopeless and naive. Everything goes to his head."

"Anything else surprising in the paper?" Hermione sighed, trying to avoid talking about Harry as much as she could.

"Not really." Draco skimmed through the paper, his eyes gliding side to side as he engulfed the words silently. "It looks like Estelle's family announced her missing. A shame." He said nonchalantly.

"Why would that be in The Daily Prophet?" Hermione asked.

"Her family is a wealthy pureblood family, just like mine. They have ties here, as well as in France." He replied.

She gazed at him suspiciously. Draco's eyebrows knitted together in a look of puzzlement.

"Yes, Granger?"

Hermione hesitated. She wanted to ask so many questions, but every time she ventured to the dark spots of his memory, he'd give her short and simple answers.

"I want to know what went on between you and Estelle."

"Why?" The tone of his voice turned almost deadly. Hermione swallowed thickly. She had struck a nerve.

"Because I want to know why it took me being crucioed for you to kill her." She responded.

"We've been through this already." He groaned.

"But you hated her before. Why?"

"She's an awful person, and she hurt what's mine. Simple."

"I know that." Hermione rolled her eyes, frustration taking over.

Draco studied her honey brown eyes. Those fucking eyes. He couldn't avoid them, and he couldn't refuse her when he stared into them. He practically melted on the inside when he bore into them. The flecks of yellow that decorated her brown irises made his heart pound. She was oxygen and he was dying for air.

Hermione didn't deserve to know why he was so badly scarred. He had already told her what happened in France, going into detail would be too much. And what would she think about him if he told her about Estelle?

Right now they were both yard sales of emotions. A penny for pain. A dime for bitterness. A quarter for grief. A dollar for silence. It bonded them together, but Draco didn't want Hermione to pay the price for the parts of him that were used and broken.

No amount of soul searching would fix his past. There was no magical Band-Aid he could stick on his heart, no special glue he could use to make himself whole again. He had shattered to pieces like a fragile vase on concrete; some fragments could be roughly cobbled back together, but many of his vital parts had simply turned to dust, pulverized and scattered by the first gust of wind. And unfortunately, Hermione had gotten to him, fallen in love with him too late. They both had fallen in love after the damage. No amount of magic could make him change his wish that he had loved Hermione before and during. He wanted the both of them to be beautifully destroyed together, have the same trauma; but they didn't, and that's what made it extremely difficult.

"I'll tell you about Estelle later, Hermione." He said softly. "She doesn't deserve the attention."

"I want to know now." She replied firmly. "I'm done beating around the bush, Draco."

"I'm not ready to tell you." His voice cracked as he finished his sentence, the memories of torture flooding back in tsunamis. He put his knuckles to his lips, looking out of the window, avoiding Hermione's eyes, because he knew, if he looked into them, he'd start crying. And Draco Malfoy didn't cry. He wasn't weak.

"Well I'm ready to listen." Hermione whispered, cupping his face and forcing him to look at her. "I'm always ready to listen."

Draco leaned into her touch. Her hands were soft, delicate. He loved the feeling her touch gave his skin. It always prickled and tingled underneath. He loved that she constantly reminded him that he wasn't dead, without even having to say a word.

He wanted to tell her. He wanted her to know, he wanted to get it off of his chest. He was just scared of how she'd react.

"Are you sure?" He swallowed, hurt clouding his eyes.

"Yes." Hermione breathed.

Draco stared at her for a moment, before sighing, his breath coming out slightly shaky.

"When you're being tortured; branded, cut, burned, maimed, you'd do anything to make it stop, even just for a second." He said painfully.

Hermione stayed quiet. She wanted to listen, listen to everything he had to say, and talk later.

Draco took another breath, trying desperately to steady it. "And Estelle was one of my torturers."

Hermione could see Draco struggle as he continued talking. She wanted to hold him, hold him like he always held her. However, she thought against it, not wanting to distract him.

"Like I said Hermione, you'd do anything to make the torture stop. And Estelle was the one who helped."

"Helped?"

"She made a deal with me. That every time she was assigned to torture me, she wouldn't do it if I-" He stopped and put his knuckles to his lips. He closed his eyes, stopping them from filling with tears. He wasn't weak.

"If you what, Draco?" Hermione pushed.

"If I had sex with her." He replied quickly. He looked away, not wanting to see Hermione's expression.

The realization hit Hermione like a bus. She felt her heart drop and her stomach twist. Her eyebrows jumped to her hairline, her eyes widened into circular orbs, as her lips parted in horror.

"She raped you..." She whispered cautiously.

Draco gulped and rubbed his eyes, still refusing to look at Hermione.

"I couldn't overpower her." His voice cracked as he choked down a sob. His bottom lip quivered and he turned to Hermione. "Why couldn't I overpower her?"

Hermione saw him bite his lip to stop it from shaking as his eyes filled with tears. "I was so much bigger than her, I was so much stronger than her, but she still did it."

Hermione embraced Draco tightly, squeezing him as hard as she could.

"I'm pathetic." He whispered.

"You just wanted the torture to stop, Draco. It isn't your fault. It was never your fault." Hermione assured him, making him look her in the face.

Hermione's touch activated something in Draco. He let out a soft sob and burst into tears, holding Hermione close as he buried his face in her hair.

With each sob and cry he let out, Hermione's heart broke. He was much more damaged than she thought, but that only made her love him more. She wanted to be there for him, and healing him from his past was her number one priority. This baby deserved a mother and father that was imperfect and flawed, but in the process of healing.

Draco Malfoy was incredibly hurt and vulnerable and hiding it for so long was starting to have its consequences.


	32. Chapter 32

"I let her do it." Draco whispered in Hermione's hair and looked down at her, his hands grasping her shoulders. "Why did I let her do it?" He searched her eyes as if he would be able to find the answer in them, like they were two crystal balls that could tell him his fortune; his future.

"Draco..." Hermione breathed, her voice almost giving out from shock. "It wasn't your fault."

"But I didn't say no." His voice was small, child like. Any dominant and stern trait of his, had disappeared. He let out a small sob from his throat, his face showing sad realization. "I didn't say no." 

"But you didn't say yes and you didn't want to be tortured either." Hermione added. The sound of her words were firm. She was not going to let the one man she absolutely adored blame himself for something that he couldn't control. 

"I just want to know why you didn't kill her when you had the chance." Hermione uttered.

It took a moment for Draco to speak. He inhaled Hermione's scent of cinnamon and honey before opening his mouth. He hoped it would calm him down. 

"Because I thought she'd apologize." He confessed. "I wanted to give her a chance. I thought she'd tell me she didn't mean it." 

"Draco..." Hermione's voice gave out as she felt tears sting her eyes. "She knew what she did. She knew she had power over you." 

"But I'm a man!" He cried. "How the fuck do I end up being raped by a woman?! It makes me seem so fucking weak." 

"It can happen to anyone, Draco. It doesn't matter the gender. It's all about power." She looked up at him, his cheeks were tear-stained, and he looked even more wounded than she had ever seen him before. "And you're not weak. Telling me what you've gone through, especially something like this, makes you stronger than I ever thought you had been."

"I didn't like it. I just wanted the pain to stop." He let out a small choke, his voice sounding like a toddler defending themselves.

"I know, Draco." Hermione leaned into his chest, feeling his heart pound through it. The melancholic melody of it rang through her ears. "It doesn't make you any less of a man." She moved a strand of his platinum hair out of his eyes. "She was awful, and I'm glad she's dead." 

"She did things to me, Hermione." He gulped. "Awful things." 

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." She rubbed his shoulders, and looked down at the ground, the sight of the massive pain and melancholy in his eyes were too much for her to gaze into. 

"I'm sorry..." He breathed, wiping his eyes as he pulled away from their embrace.

"Sorry for what? Don't you dare apologize for something you couldn't stop." Hermione said sternly. "Don't you dare say sorry for something that wasn't your fault." 

"It must be annoying." He chuckled softly to himself.

"What is?" 

"Me asking for your consent every time we have sex. Every time I want to be intimate with you, I feel repetitive." 

"Annoying? Absolutely not. Why would you ever think that?" Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at him. 

"I ask, because my consent was taken away. And I don't ever want you to feel like I'm using you." He replied. 

"I'm so sorry, Draco." Her bottom lip quivered as she tried desperately not to cry. "I should've never brought this up."

"No. I'm glad you did. I wanted this off of my chest for months." 

"Do your parents know?" 

"How would I tell them that their precious little boy was taken advantage of? My mother is already in enough pain. I'm not adding to it."

Hermione observed Draco's face carefully. She watched his eyes flicker with something she couldn't point out. She felt as if the mosaic she had been assembling out of life's little shards got dumped to the ground, and there was no way to put it back together. He had been shattered and she had no instructions on how to glue him back together. She was winging it, and it seemed like when she'd get done with one piece, it fell apart again.

"I love you." She whispered.

"I fucking adore you." He replied, kissing her forehead. 

Hermione realized that Draco had so many more demons than she had. He had been through much more than she could've ever imagined. He was a rose, but the petals were starting to fall off, leaving just the thorns. And it was extremely difficult to grasp a rose by the thorns. 

Hermione felt a pain in her chest. Perhaps this is what the stories meant when they called somebody heartsick. Your heart and your stomach and your whole insides felt empty and hollow and aching. 

Her heart ached. Draco should've never had to go through this. The man was practically a god. And he knew it. And the fact he wasn't able to stop what had happened to him, hurt him badly. Because how does a god get taken advantage of? A god was meant to be worshipped, not raped. 

"You're the bravest man I know." She smiled. 

"I don't think I'm brave, I just survived." He shrugged. "And there are times I wish I died." 

"You're not allowed to die. We've already pinky promised." Hermione said.

Draco gave her a sad smile before looking down at the marble floor. "And what if I broke it?" 

The words weaved through Hermione's ears bit by bit. She swallowed thickly. She felt her heart drop into her stomach, her blood running cold and icy through her veins. 

And she suddenly knew that if he killed himself, she would die. Maybe not immediately, maybe not with the same blinding rush of pain, but it would happen. Because she couldn't live for very long without a heart.

"You're scaring me, Draco." Her voice shook as the words passed out of her mouth.

As much as this man made her heart pound with passion and love, he had a way to step on it and twist it beneath his feet. He didn't do it on purpose, but fuck, it hurt.

Draco watched her clench her fists at her side, but still look at him sadly. He inhaled deeply, the scent of cinnamon filling his nostrils; instantly, he was relaxed. He couldn't die. He pinky promised. He wasn't allowed to. Before Hermione showed up, he was constantly torn between killing himself and killing everyone around him. But just being around Hermione, everything seemed okay. She was able to heal him just by being next to him. 

No amount of words could describe the feelings Hermione gave Draco. It was definitely more than love, and it was scary, but comforting. 

"You know," he let out a soft chuckle, "they did say that scars last forever. I just didn't know which ones they were talking about." 

"You didn't deserve any of that." Hermione caressed his cheek, his soft skin felt like velvet under her fingertips. 

"My family betrayed Voldemort, Granger." He gently grabbed her wrist and leaned into her touch. He always leaned into her touch. She had this magic no other witch held. A magic that only he could feel and see. A magic specially made just for him. 

"But you helped Harry defeat him! That's why I'm here today, and that's why you're still here!" She exclaimed, pulling her hand away. "And you're not ever dying on me." 

"I'm sorry, Mione." He pulled her close to him and kissed the top of her head. "I'm here. I'll always be here." 

-

It was high noon, the natural spring sunlight casted little rainbows across the marble floor, catching Hermione's eyes as she sat next to Draco on the sofa. 

She watched him closely as he put the quill he was writing with between his teeth and rolled up the sleeves of his usual turtleneck shirt. When he wrote in that notebook, it seemed as if everything in his head went away. It was almost like he used it to cope. He used a lot of things to cope. 

"What do you do in that notebook?" Hermione asked, trying to peek into it.

"Private things." He replied, gently pushing her face away.

"You always have it on you. It must be something important." 

"It is." 

"Can I see?"

"No." 

"Please?" 

"No."

"And why not?" Hermione whined and narrowed her eyes. 

"Because it doesn't concern you." Draco replied, pushing his reading glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Hermione turned to Draco, who rolled his eyes and got up. "I told those assholes not to show up today." He muttered, opening the door. 

"Hey mate!" Theo greeted, walking in before Draco could say anything. 

"Theo–" Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "He dragged me along." He told Draco. 

"Come in." Draco sighed. 

Hermione nodded to Blaise and Theo, watching them sit down across from her. They looked almost nervous; worried. 

She watched their eyes flicker over her. She shifted in her spot on the couch. They weren't necessarily bad people, but they made her uncomfortable nonetheless. 

"You two weren't formally invited." Draco said, sitting back down on the couch and wrapping his arms around Hermione. 

"We know." Blaise said. "We actually wanted to tell you something." 

"Oh lovely." He replied sarcastically. 

Blaise and Theo glanced at each other, exchanging looks, then gazed back at Draco and Hermione.

"Pansy told Potter and the Weasley girl about you and Granger." Theo said. "They know she's here." 

Hermione clasp a hand over her mouth and felt her breathing become erratic. She didn't want to be found out. It was too soon. She didn't want to explain herself, she didn't want them to know about her and Draco. They would think she had gone insane. 

Draco bit the inside of his cheek. "Fuck." He took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. 

"She was upset when we left last time." Blaise stated. "She said you didn't deserve someone like that." 

"Like what?" Draco's voice became deadly. Hermione fumbled with her fingers nervously in her lap at the sudden change of his tone.

"Of muggle decent." Theo replied. "But she wasn't that kind with words."

"I'm going to kill her." He muttered. 

Hermione felt his cold hands squeeze her thigh. She inhaled a shaky breath, feeling the cold metal of his multiple rings dig into her flesh. 

"How did she even know where to find Harry and Ginny?" Hermione asked. 

"Potter's an auror. He's easy to find." Blaise answered. 

"Draco," Hermione clasped his hand that sat on top of her thigh. "They can't find out. I don't want them to." 

"It was about time, Hermione." Draco's nails dug into the flesh of her thigh, causing her to wince a little. He was just as nervous as she was.

"We just came to warn you. You know, just in case you wanted to find somewhere else to hide." Theo said. 

"I'm staying here. So is Granger. If I have to, I'll kill Potter myself." Draco replied through clenched teeth. 

"Draco, no you aren't." Hermione said. "Nobody is killing anyone. You're already hiding from the Ministry, don't do something that could make it easier for them to find you." 

"This was meant just to be a quick visit." Blaise said, standing up. "Be careful."

"I'm always careful." Draco replied. 

"We'll visit again soon." Theo added, following Blaise to the door. 

"If I invite you." Draco growled, watching them leave. 

"I didn't want to be found. It's too soon." Hermione panicked. 

"We'll be fine." Draco assured.

She gripped his arm tightly. "What if they force me back? What if they make me leave?" 

"I won't let them do that." He assured her. "No one takes what's mine."

"Are you sure we should stay here? This is the first place they'll look!" Hermione began to grow frustrated. Why wasn't Draco taking this seriously? They couldn't just let them find her. 

"Let me fucking think, Hermione!" He barked. 

"Think faster!" She yelled. 

Draco could feel a rush of annoyance and frustration wash over him. Harry could arrest him and take him to Azkaban if he wanted. He couldn't go to Azkaban. He had to take care of Hermione and the baby. 

He loved Hermione, but he didn't want to argue over something he thought he could take care of. 

"I'm not doing this." He muttered, walking towards the door. 

"Where are you going?!" She shouted following him. 

"Out." He answered harshly, grabbing his cloak. 

"You said you wouldn't go anywhere without me!" Hermione screamed, tears glazing over her eyes. "You aren't leaving me here!"

Draco walked out the door, but before he could close it, Hermione grabbed the doorknob, only to quickly retract her hand as it burned her. 

"Draco!" She screamed. She looked out the window, watching Draco walk down the cobblestone walkway, and disapparate. 

"Fuck!" She exclaimed, kicking the door.

She turned around and stopped as the notebook caught her eye, sitting unattended on the sofa. 

Draco wasn't here to stop her. There was no one here beside Blimbey to stop her from reading what was in the damn book. 

Hermione stomped to the sofa and snatched the book, and made her way up the stairs and into the library, locking the door behind her. 

She sat on her bed and fluffed her pillows, leaning against them, making herself comfortable. 

If what was in the notebook was so private, why would he just leave it out in the open? She ran her fingers down the spine and bit her lip. She was scared to open it. What if she found something that she didn't want to know? What if the information she found hidden inside changed the way she viewed Draco? Then again, she had already changed her view on him so much, what more could change?

She took a deep breath and opened it, flipping to a random page and was met with a sketch. It was the sketch for the nursery.

Hermione's heart fluttered as she looked over the page. Little notes were made about the color, the decor, and the position of the furniture. 

He put so much effort into it. Hermione teared up. She adored this man, even on days like this, even when they fought like this. 

She flipped another page. It was filled with Draco's beautiful handwriting. 

She's in the library, sleeping. I checked on her this morning before I came downstairs. I wanted to make sure she was still breathing; still with me. It comforts me when I see her chest move up and down as she sleeps. It sounds creepy, but I've lost too many people like that. People who just sleep and never awake. 

She looked exhausted, but still gorgeous. I didn't know she could be so lovely while she slept. If you were to tell me she was Sleeping Beauty, I would've believed you. 

You should've seen the light come back in her eyes when I showed her the nursery. I made it my favorite color, purple, because I only share my favorite things with my favorite people. She loved it, mother. I cannot thank you enough for giving me some advice. I hope you are feeling well. I love you. 

Sincerely,

Draco Malfoy x 

Hermione put her hand over her mouth. He wrote out letters to his mother. She ran her hand over the dried ink. She wondered if he'd ever send them. 

Suddenly, an overwhelming feeling of guilt and regret pooled in her stomach. They just had a fight. She provoked him. She made him leave. 

Hermione carefully closed the book and rushed out of the library and into the sitting room, setting the notebook exactly where she had found it. It wasn't right to keep snooping around. 

She sat there and anxiously waited for Draco to return. She didn't notice how much she missed him until he was gone. She didn't realize that the smell of him was all she needed to get ready for the day. Watching him get dressed, and the sound in the kitchen; a slow hum of a song and his movements, picking things to eat. The way she could observe him, for hours, just go on with his day – or as he sleeps – simply breathing in and out, in and out, and it's like the hymn that sings her to peace. 

She knew the world is still out there and she knew that as long as she had him with her here, there, somewhere – them – this man was going to be the absolute death of her.


	33. Chapter 33

Hermione watched the rainbows moved across the marble floor as the sun made its way through the sky.

Her hand hurt. She looked at her palm. There was a burn mark slashed across it. 

She hated when Draco put the stupid enchantments up. She already said she'd stay, what more did she have to do to prove that to him? 

She said she loved him, he said he loved her, what more could she say to him? 

He made her laugh, he made her smile. He made her feel as though she were a phoenix bursting into flames and rebirthing itself. Every time she thought of him, her whole world stopped. She didn't want that to go away. She didn't want him to go away. 

Hermione still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that this man wanted to be with her. Sure, they had a lot in common–both bookworms, loved the arts, always curious about the world around them–but he was able to turn anyone's head with just his looks. He was everything she could ever want, yet nothing she could ever have. He was a rose in a field of sunflowers. Hermione was just–Hermione. She was just another sunflower. She blended in.

Or maybe she didn't. Maybe Draco had always thought she was a butterfly in the field of sunflowers and roses. Because flowers need butterflies to survive. 

Draco needed her to survive. That's why they fit together so beautifully. Hermione was making a life, while Draco had been thinking about ending his. 

She was worried. It had been several hours since Draco had left. She felt herself grow more and more anxious as the minutes ticked by. 

The sun had set. All that was left, was a little yellow light behind the mountains in the distance. The chandeliers in the Manor came on automatically, lighting the room with an elegant and comfortable glow. 

Even with as beautiful as it was, it didn't ease her nerves. Draco still wasn't back. Hermione subconsciously bit her nails as she stared out of the window, hoping to see him apparate on the doorstep. 

What if he was found? Did the Ministry have him? Was he hurt? A whole bunch of questions flooded Hermione's mind as she continued gazing out into the horizon. 

Finally, she heard a loud and familiar crack, and rushed to the door, not daring to touch the knob. 

Draco came in. He looked calm. Without a word, he hung up his cloak, and blinked at Hermione. 

"Yes?" He arched an eyebrow. 

Hermione couldn't help but feel a sharp pain of anger in her chest. After being gone for hours without telling her, that was all he had to say? 

"You idiot!" She exclaimed, hitting his chest. "You've been gone for hours! I had thought something had happened to you!" 

"I'm fine, Granger." He said, looking down at her with concerned brows. "I'm not dead yet." 

She had too many thoughts and worries in her mind that all came in at once. She was relieved that Draco was okay, yet frustrated that he was acting like nothing was wrong. 

She felt her knees weaken, but before she could collapse onto the ground, Draco grabbed her gently by the waist, supporting her. 

"You could've at least told me where the hell you were going!" She sobbed into his chest. "How dare you leave without me?!" 

Draco hugged Hermione tightly, comforting her as she sobbed. He felt awful. "Hermione, I'm sorry. Please, stop crying." 

All the anger and annoyance he had from earlier that day, faded away. He felt regret and guilt seep deeply into him as he stroked Hermione's hair, hearing her choking sobs and feeling her tears dampen his shirt. 

Her mere presence seemed to calm his thoughts, saving him from the vicissitudes of his mind. Perhaps it was something in her face, her eyes. Maybe it was the way she smelled, or the way her face lit up as she saw him walk into the room. He hated when she cried. He never wanted to make her cry. 

"I just needed some fresh air." He said, kissing the top of her head. "And I needed to take care of some things." 

"Why couldn't I come with you?" She looked up at him and sniffled. "And why have you not lifted the enchantments back up?" 

Draco sighed. He knew she was going to ask that question. He didn't want to answer it. How was he going to tell her that he was still scared that she'd leave if he had lifted them? What if she went somewhere and never came back? If she had gotten hurt, it would be entirely his fault. 

"We just had a fight. I didn't think you'd want to be with me after the yelling match we had earlier. We both needed some space." He replied. 

"What did you need to take care of?" Hermione pushed away from him, her red, puffy eyes narrowing suspiciously. 

Draco swallowed thickly as he saw Hermione glare at him. He cleared his throat and straightened himself, not trying to show that he was completing breaking under her gaze. 

"It takes awhile to dispose of a body, Granger." He said nonchalantly. 

"A body?!" She exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. "Who the hell did you kill?" 

"Pansy had it coming." He sighed, avoiding eye contact. 

"Pansy?! Draco, you're going to get yourself in more trouble with the damn Ministry!" She scolded. 

"Yeah, well she's dead now." He shrugged. "Anyways, I got you something." 

"We are not changing the subject! You killed someone! Does Blaise and Theo know?" 

"They helped." 

"Draco!" 

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. As much as she adored this man, she didn't adore some of his actions. 

He had just killed someone. First Estelle, now Pansy. He was willing to kill anybody who wronged Hermione. She didn't want him to do that. She had been wronged all her life, she was used to it. Draco couldn't just kill every single person who looked at Hermione wrong. Why did Draco think killing was the answer to everything? How the hell was he expecting to make life in a graveyard? 

He made her feel an infinite number of feelings, in which she lost herself. 

Draco's eyes flickered over Hermione. He loved her. Oh god, he loved her. He had never realized how painful love really was until he picked her up off his doorstep. 

Their love was like poison–He may regret it, it may not be worth it in the end, but there was no way he could stop loving her. He didn't know if they would have a good ending or a happily ever after, but he needed her. The world was beautiful because she was here. The air was fresh because she also breathed the same air. Life was worth living because she existed. 

Every time Draco caught sight of Hermione, he couldn't help but think that maybe the only reason he existed was just to love her; be with her. He knew he would live through the worst hell of his life many times over just to see her smile. He yearned the most for her happiness. 

"Hermione," Draco tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, causing her to lose her focus. His touch made her forget everything. "I won't kill anyone else. Pansy was lucky I didn't kill her before I escaped to France. She was going to die either way." 

"Promise me, Draco." She wiped the tears from her cheeks and took a deep breath. It was hard. It was always so hard to breathe around this man. He always took her breath away. "Promise me that you won't kill anyone else. I can't risk losing you." 

Draco smirked and held up his pinky. Hermione tried to bite back a smile, but failed as the edges of her lips curved upwards. She held up her pinky and interlocked it with his. 

"Pinky promise." They said together. 

"So," Draco's voice went from soft and gentle, to his usual stern and intimating one. "Like I said, I got you something." 

"Draco," Hermione chuckled. "You didn't have to get me anything." 

"Too late." He smiled and walked to his cloak, pulling out a wrapped package and handing it to her. "Open it." 

She felt it through the wrapping paper. It felt like clothing. She carefully unwrapped the package and was met with a beautiful black dress. 

She pulled it out and held it up in front of her. It had long and loose chiffon sleeves, the bodice a charcoal-black and edged in gold, with a deep v-neck that would definitely show more of her chest than she'd like. The skirt was full and long, coming together in the back to form an elegant lace train that was also bordered in gold. It was absolutely stunning. Hermione was easily able to identify this dress as the most beautiful one she had ever seen. 

"Oh my god..." was all she could say as she gawked at the beautiful piece of clothing. "Draco, I didn't need something this stunning. I have plenty of dresses in my wardrobe!" 

"Put it on." His lips curved into an accomplished smirk, as the words came out raspy and low, like a growl. 

"Right now?" She looked up at him, knitting her eyebrows together. 

"Did I stutter?" He chuckled. 

Hermione swallowed. Her body, like always, grew flustered and warm as the tone of his voice went stern. Her heart fluttered as she saw the hungry look in his eyes. 

"Undress, Granger." He whispered. It was low, hungry. He sounded like a wolf talking to its prey. He looked like he was about to pounce. 

"Right here in the sitting room? Are you sure?" 

"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't sure. Undress." His eyes darkened. "Slowly. And look at me while you do it."

Hermione's breath became nonexistent. She looked down at herself, then back up and Draco. She could feel heat rise between her thighs as he continued staring down hungrily at her.

"Do I need to help you?" He raised an eyebrow, his lips slightly apart as his eyes trailed down her body. 

"N-no." She replied, playing with the hemline of her shirt. "I can do it." 

She looked into Draco's eyes as she lifted her shirt over her head and dropped it onto the floor.

Draco's eyes slowly moved down her bare torso, taking in the curvature of her breasts, her perfectly sculpted waist, and the ever growing baby bump. 

He winked at her as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of her shorts and pulled them down. 

"Slow down, Granger." Draco growled.

She obeyed, slowly dragging her shorts down her thighs, then knees and ankles, stepping out of them while she watched Draco's jaw clench, his eyes focusing on her red knickers she had picked out after breakfast.

"Red?" Draco half smirked, staring intently from the red panties to her honey brown eyes. 

"Well–they were the first ones I saw." Hermione mumbled. 

"They stand out." He stated, his voice laced with horny amusement. 

Hermione put her arms across her chest, hiding her breasts from view as Draco continued staring at her like a predator ready to eat its prey. She liked that look in his eyes. It was stern, firm, and dominant. She loved when he took the reigns. 

"Now, put the dress on, and I'll zip you up." His eyes flickered back to a gentle expression and his smirk softened.

Hermione glanced up and him, then quickly back at the dress, stepping into it and sliding it on her body. 

Draco approached her from behind and played with the zipper. She felt pleasurable shivers run down her spine as the feeling of his cold hands trailed up her back when he slowly zipped her up. 

He took a step back and admired her like she was the original Mona Lisa; intrigued and curious. 

"Give me a twirl." He smiled. 

Hermione felt her heart skip a beat at those words. They were so simple, yet they were able to make her insides flip. 

She twirled gently, watching the full skirt flare out and spin elegantly with her. 

"Stunning." Draco chuckled and kissed her neck. 

Hermione bit back her moans as his kisses trailed from her neck, to her shoulder, and down her arm, stopping at her hand. 

"Dance with me, ma chérie." He looked her in the eyes as he kissed her hand again. 

"Draco," she laughed. "I haven't danced since the Yule Ball." 

"Well, let's change that." He winked. 

With a flick of his hand, Hermione saw a vinyl record fly to the dusty phonograph in the corner. 

Hermione's eyes widened in astonishment and turned to Draco, her jaw dropping in amazement. 

"What?" He chuckled. 

"You can do wandless magic?" She asked in utter disbelief. 

Draco shrugged. "I learned it in France after the torture. I wanted to make sure I had some back up defense if my wand was ever taken away."

"I've been practicing since Hogwarts, and still haven't perfected it like that." Hermione's lips were agape in awe. This man just surprised her more and more everyday. 

"Well," he laughed. "Maybe I'll show you some tricks one of these days." 

"I'd love that." She smiled. 

"Now," Draco grabbed Hermione's hand and bowed. "Shall we dance, mi amor?" 

"We shall." Hermione giggled, curtsying in response.

"Good." Draco smirked, and with another flick of his hand, the phonograph started playing music. 

The familiar and soft voice of a woman weaved through Hermione ears. 

"Is this Etta James?" Hermione asked as Draco pulled her closer to him. 

"You like her too?" He widened his eyes.

"Yes! She's lovely." 

"Her voice is very soothing." Draco agreed. "Now, let's dance." 

Hermione grinned up at him, those sea foam eyes lighting up again with something she had never seen before. Never in her life, has she seen someone look at her like Draco did. Not even Ron looked at her with that much adoration. 

Hermione followed Draco's steps as they waltz through the sitting room, Etta James' voice in the background. 

At last  
My love has come along  
My lonely days are over  
And life is like a song...

As Draco twirled her around and grabbed her hips, Hermione felt the entire world around her disappear. This is what she wanted to feel like for the rest of her life. This is what happiness really felt like, something she hadn't felt in years. 

She had always believed in love at first sight, but it wasn't the first moment you lay eyes on a person, it was the moment you first see  
the person for who they truly are, and she finally saw Draco for who he truly was, and it made the roses bloom without water. 

Draco gazed into her lovely eyes as they danced around the room. As they waltzed, he remembered the first time they held hands. It was like a rush of electricity. A pleasurable spine tingle, that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Now, they held hands just to feel each other's touch and couldn't help but smile when they looked at each other. The best part was that it meant nothing to the world around them, but it meant the world to them. 

She felt like she was floating; light on her feet, as Draco danced with her across the room. It was the best she had felt in a long time. The smiles hadn't left their faces and their eyes hadn't broke contact. Hermione felt like an absolute princess as her dress spun with her. 

Finally, the song had ceased, and the vinyl scratched to a halt. Draco and Hermione smiled shyly at each other and looked away, a little overwhelmed over what had just happened.

"That was amazing." Hermione uttered shyly. "Thank you." 

"My pleasure." Draco replied, a smile of admiration painting his face. "You aren't too bad at dancing." 

"I followed your feet. I would've been stumbling everywhere if I hadn't." Hermione chuckled and played nervously with her hair. 

Draco looked over his shoulder at the window. It was dark. The night sky was sprinkled with stars that twinkled through the glass. 

"It's late. We should get to bed." He suggested. 

"In just a minute." Hermione said, and kissed his lips, feeling the softness of them against hers. 

Draco put one of his hands on the back of Hermione's neck and deepened the kiss, holding her close. 

Hermione's hand trailed down his chest and his stomach, stopping at the waistband of his pants. Still kissing him, she slowly dragged her hand down his pants, stroking his cock. 

Draco moaned in her mouth as she continued touching him. 

"Fuck." he groaned, his tongue intertwined with hers.

Hermione pulled away and smirked. 

"Playing hard to get, are we?" Draco arched a curious brow.

"Lift the enchantments." Hermione demanded softly with a smile. "Please."

"Hermione..." Draco trailed off. How was he going to tell her that he was afraid she'd abandon him? What would happen if she left? "Why?" 

"Because I promised you I'd stay, meaning, that this Manor is just as much mine as it is yours." She took in a deep inhale. "And I would like to be able to touch my own doorknobs without burning myself." 

Draco took a moment before answering. He debated with himself. He didn't want her to leave. He was afraid of abandonment. Abandonment didn't have the sharp, dissipating sting of a slap. It was like a punch to the gut, bruising your skin and driving the precious air from your body. He didn't want to feel that. He loved her too much. 

"Fine." He sighed in defeat. 

"Thank you." Hermione smiled. 

Draco gave her a small smile before grabbing his wand from his cloak and muttering under his breath. 

"There." He stated. "Done." 

He was trying to hide the fear in his voice. Without the enchantments, she was free. He didn't want her to leave him. God, he was so dependent on her. 

Hermione yawned. "I'm ready for bed." 

"Me too." Draco snorted. 

"Can I sleep with you?" She asked. 

"Always." He smiled. 

-

Hermione felt the slow and rhythmic rise and fall of Draco's chest against her back as he slept peacefully. His arms were wrapped around her, cuddling her close. 

She was tired, but she couldn't help but feel like she needed to do something before she could really sleep as peaceful as Draco was.

She carefully and quietly moved out of Draco's embrace and tiptoed quietly to the door, opening it slowly and hurrying through the hall and down the stairs. 

She reached the front door and carefully touched the doorknob. It didn't burn her. The enchantments were really lifted. She looked at the clock. Midnight. 

She thought to herself as long as she was back before Draco awoke, she'd be okay. She grabbed her cloak quietly, looking up to the banister every other second, scared that Draco would notice her gone from his arms. 

Hermione silently twisted the doorknob, and opened the door, the sudden breeze of fresh air filled her nostrils. She had something to get done, and the sooner it was done, the less she had to worry about it. 

"I'll be back, Draco." She whispered to herself. "I always will be." 

And with that, she grabbed his wand from his cloak, and hurried out into the night.


	34. Chapter 34

Draco stirred in his bed. The smell of cinnamon and honey became faint. He had noticed that Hermione's hair wasn't tickling his face anymore. 

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times to refocus his blurry vision. He sat up, noticing Hermione wasn't anywhere in the room. 

Draco sighed softly and rubbed his eyes as he got up, thinking maybe she had moved to the library. For some reason, he still couldn't fathom why Hermione was always so nervous to sleep in the same bed as him. 

He walked quietly out into the hall and turned to the library, silently and carefully opening the door, as to not wake Hermione up. He looked around the dark room, the moonlight through the glass ceiling being the only source of light. Empty. 

He inhaled a shaky breath, trying not to freak out just yet. This Manor was big. She was somewhere. She was always somewhere. She was always close by him. 

He checked the nursery. Nothing. He felt his chest tighten as he peeked over the banister and into the sitting room. Once again, empty. 

He walked down the stairs, the tiredness fading away as the slow realization came to him. Her cloak was gone. Draco approached his cloak and felt the pockets. His wand had disappeared. 

Fear overtook him. He could feel the blood in his veins grow cold. Hermione had left. She fucking left.

She promised. They promised. She said she'd stay. She said things to him that made him believe it was true. He was always so fucking gullible. 

He was on the verge of a panic attack. His chest burned with every breath he tried to take. It felt as though thorns had latched themselves into his lungs and wrapped around them, hindering his breathing. He knew it was a risk to be venerable to Hermione. He knew that if he got too close, he'd end up getting hurt, and he did. After everything they had been through these past few months, she was able to leave so easily. 

He knew it was too perfect to last. He knew he wasn't able to keep one person in his life forever, but fuck, it was such a nice thought. He thought he would finally be happy, finally be able to live without wanting to die. 

Waking up to an empty bed, to no Hermione, felt like waking up with no teeth in his mouth. He didn't have to look to know she was gone, he could just feel it. 

Draco was not going to stand in the Manor and do nothing. He grabbed his cloak and went to touch the doorknob. It didn't move. His insides began to burn with anger. Hermione had locked him inside his own Manor. She knew he'd come look for her. She knew he'd raise hell if he woke up. 

"You better pray to Merlin you're here before sunrise, Granger." Draco said to himself through clenched teeth. 

"Blimbey!" He called, hearing his voice echo through the Manor. 

"Yes, Master Malfoy?" The elf appeared quickly, not having been too far away. 

"Go look for Mione." He commanded. 

"Yes sir!" The elf squeaked, disapparating with a loud crack! 

He clenched his jaw, looking out into the starry night from the sitting room window.

"You fucking promised." His voice broke. It hurt to speak. His chest was still burning. Thorns still latched into every vital organ he had. He bit his lip, anxiously watching the amber street lights outside flicker. 

As much as he believed she was gone, a part of him had faith that she'd be back. A flower always knew when its butterfly would come back. He just hoped it was sooner rather than later; before his petals started falling apart. He hoped he hadn't miscalculated, and he hoped that the butterfly came back with both of its wings...

-

It was quiet. Hermione's nerves ignited as she continued walking down the street. She hadn't been alone at night since the first day Draco took her in. 

She was anxious. She looked everywhere around her, making sure she didn't miss a blind spot. The streets were empty. 

Even so, she kept Draco's wand close to her, ready to attack anything that crossed her path. She had a sinking feeling in her gut. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. But she knew she wanted to get it done. The sooner it was done, the sooner her and Draco could be happy. 

She walked for what felt like forever, until she was met with the familiar house she had visited so many times before. The lights were still on. 

She let out a small exhale of relief, no longer wanting to walk down dark alleyways and unlit streets. 

She hurried up the walkway, and knocked on the door. 

It only took a few seconds, until she was met face to face with Harry. 

His eyes widened at the sight of her. 

"Hermione?!" He gasped. 

"Hi Harry." She smiled shyly. "Can I come in?" 

He was speechless. Hermione knew he wasn't expecting her. 

"Y-yeah." He stammered, stepping aside. 

"Thank you." Hermione said, walking in and waving to Ginny, whose eyes widened in shock. 

"Hermione?" She gasped, clutching her chest. "Why are you here this late?" 

"I needed to talk to you guys." Hermione replied. 

"We know you've been with Malfoy. Pansy told us." Harry said. 

"I know. That's why I'm here." She replied. 

Harry's eyes flicked down to Hermione's baby bump. 

"You're growing." He stated. 

"Yeah. I'm almost five months along." She looked down at her stomach. "It's a girl." Hermione glanced back up at the two of them and smiled faintly. 

"A girl?!" Ginny exclaimed. "I'm gonna have a niece! It's about time! The Weasleys need more girls." 

Hermione laughed and nodded. "Definitely." 

"So, you've been with Malfoy this entire time?" Harry asked softly. 

"Yes." 

"Willingly?" He raised a suspicious eyebrow. 

Hermione bit her lip. At first, no, but now, yes. 

"Yes." She answered softly. 

"And you came here, because...?" Harry trailed off, his raised eyebrows turned into furrowed ones. 

Hermione straightened herself and cleared her throat, trying to get her nerves calmed. She was nervous. Why was she nervous? This was just Harry and Ginny, they weren't strangers. Maybe it was because of the seclusion. Maybe she had been away too long. 

"I wanted you two to know that I'm okay, and to leave Draco and I alone." Hermione's voice came out higher than she expected it to. She really was anxious. 

"Excuse me?" Ginny furrowed her brows, looking almost offended by what Hermione had just said. 

"I want to stay with Draco. I don't want you two to come save me when I don't need to be saved." Hermione swallowed thickly, but stood her ground. 

"For how long?" Harry asked. 

"For as long as he'll let me. Forever if possible." 

Forever if possible. Forever. Forever was a word that Hermione used to always avoid, because nothing could last that long. As much as she wanted to be with Draco forever, she couldn't even focus on the now. And everyone knew forever was composed of nows. 

"You are such a moron, Hermione." Ginny scoffed. "You and Malfoy? You must be smoking muggle crack if you think he really wants you there." 

"Ginny!" Harry hissed. 

"Let me speak, Harry." She hissed back. 

Hermione was a bit taken aback. Her face contorted into a look of confusion and puzzlement. Ginny had never been so harsh with her before, and it hurt.

"You will not let a Malfoy raise my niece, Hermione." Ginny growled. "Malfoys and Weasleys are the exact opposite from each other. We have hated each other for centuries. You really think he's going to care for this child like it's his own? This baby is everything he hates! A mudblood and a Weasley!" 

"Ginny, that's enough!" Harry scolded. 

"No," Hermione felt her bottom lip quiver as she glanced at Harry, then back at Ginny, her eyes glazing over with tears. "Go on, Ginny." 

Her throat felt dry. Her chest felt tight. She was trying her absolute best to keep herself together, but it wasn't working. 

"Draco Malfoy is a master manipulator, Hermione. Are you sure he isn't just keeping you there so you don't rat him out to the Ministry? Do you really think he wants you? You are everything he hates! He bullied you relentlessly throughout our years at Hogwarts! And now, you want to be with him?!" Ginny ranted, her face growing red as her anger built. 

Hermione's stomach dropped. She hadn't thought about that. What if Draco really was just keeping her there so she didn't tell the Ministry? He knew she used to work there, so if he kept her at the Manor, he wouldn't have to worry about being found. 

But he had done things to her, said things to her that no one else ever had, not even Ron. She didn't want to believe it. Draco loved her. She loved Draco.

"I do want to be with him." Hermione confirmed, her voice coming out hoarse. "And he loves me." 

"You're just going to betray my brother that easily?!" Ginny yelled. "You're going to let Ron's child be raised by the one person he had always hated, by the same person he had always defended you against?!"

Hermione felt anger flooding her veins. How dare Ginny bring Ron into this? Ron was gone. Ron never loved her like Draco did. She never felt the same with Ron like she had with Draco. 

Draco encouraged her, met her intelligence, asked if she was okay. Ron had never done that. She had to always babysit Ron. He never cared to ask how she was, he never cared to listen to anything she had to say. Why should she care what Ron wanted? She was done grieving over someone she thought she loved, but in reality, she just tolerated. 

"This is my baby too!" Hermione screamed. "This baby is even more Granger than Weasley! This baby is mine! Ron is dead! He's six feet under the fucking ground!" 

Harry and Ginny's jaws dropped in response. Hermione was fed up. She had enough. Ron was dead and that wasn't going to change. 

But Draco was alive. And Hermione had gotten there just in time. She had pulled him from drowning, and she wasn't going to let Draco fall back into the water. She needed him and he needed her. 

"You are an absolute bitch." Ginny retorted. "If this baby is raised by a Malfoy, it will not be considered any part Weasley." 

"That's just fine with me." Hermione swallowed down a sob, tears running down her cheeks. "Because Draco wants to raise this baby with me, and I'm letting him." 

Hermione had enough. She was tired and frustrated. She wanted to get back to Draco. She turned around towards the front door, only for Ginny's voice to ring through her ears again. 

"Draco has killed before." She said, her voice was a calm anger. The type of anger a parent gave you when you were in trouble in public. It made Hermione feel like a child. "He's killed children. You really want a former blood supremacist and Death Eater raising that baby? How stupider can you get?" 

Hermione glanced at Harry who shrugged nervously. 

He raked a hand through his hair and sat down on the sofa, not wanting to bud into their conversation. Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course, when it came to Ginny, he wouldn't defend Hermione.

"People change, Ginny." Hermione stated. 

"Do they?" She laughed to herself. "Or do they just manipulate you into thinking they have?" 

For a second, it felt as though Hermione's veins stopped pumping blood. For a second, it felt as though she stopped breathing. That wasn't true. It couldn't be.

"He wouldn't do that." She breathed, clutching her chest.

"All Malfoys are the same. Always have been." Ginny spat.

If Ginny had said that a few months ago, Hermione would've believed her. But now, she thought that was the dumbest things she had ever heard. Draco Malfoy wasn't the same person he used to be. He was hurt. She was hurt. 

"I'm leaving. I believe I've overstayed my welcome." Hermione's voice shook as she tried to stop herself from breaking down in front of the two people she thought she could trust the most. 

"Goodbye." Ginny said flatly. 

She turned the doorknob and rushed outside, not wanting Harry and Ginny to see her sobbing. 

She was an idiot. Why did she think this was a good idea? They hated her. She was finally happy, yet the world wasn't. But when the world was happy, she was miserable. 

Draco loved her. He would never just say the things he had to her if he were faking it all, would he? 

Through her blurry, teary vision, Hermione paced down the street. She just wanted to be in Draco's arms again. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, because his touch felt like home. She wanted to go home. 

She wanted her rose back. Draco was her rose. She didn't care if all he had left were the thorns. She wanted to feel pain, because at least she'd still be able to feel something, instead of nothing at all. 

She was reaching into a rose bush blindly. And when you don't pay attention, or when you aren't careful, you get pricked. And you can't cry about it, because you knew what the consequences were going to be. 

She couldn't be upset with anyone but herself. She decided to leave the Manor without telling Draco, she decided to see Harry and Ginny, and she decided to leave them as well. She couldn't blame anyone for how she felt except herself. 

As Hermione mentally kicked herself, she hadn't noticed her knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping Draco's wand. She was angry with herself. 

She walked for awhile. She didn't know Harry and Ginny's house had been this far away. The amber streetlights casted ominous glows that canceled out the moonlight. With the artificial lights and exhaustion setting in, time was hard to tell. As she walked further down the pavement, she finally approached the Manor. 

She opened the gate and felt her heart drop as she noticed the lights were on. Draco was awake. 

Hermione hesitated, reluctantly approaching the Manor door. She knew she was in trouble. 

With a deep breath, and a prayer, she slowly swung open the door, seeing the back of Draco, who was on the phone. 

He turned his head, making eye contact with Hermione. He looked murderous. 

Hermione could feel her breathing stop, and her skin become cold and clammy. She was petrified. 

"She's here. Call it off Theo." He said. "I'll talk to you later. Bye." 

He set the phone down and turned to Hermione. She had never seen his eyes light with as much anger as they did at that moment. 

"Where the fuck have you been?!" He bellowed, approaching her. "I almost had Theo and Blaise come after you! How dare you lock me inside of my own Manor while you leave in the middle of the goddamn night?!" 

"I was just out." Hermione responded quietly. 

"Out?! Just out?! It's three in the fucking morning, Granger!" He yelled. "Do you not understand how much danger you put yourself in? Not to mention, how many fucking creatures would love to attack a pregnant witch walking alone at night!" 

His yelling made Hermione want to shrivel up and die on the marble floor. The anger she caused him made her whole body tense with regret.

"I had to take care of something!" Hermione raised her voice, matching the tone of Draco's. "I came back!" 

"Was it really that fucking important to leave in the middle of the fucking night?! I didn't get a note, a heads up, nothing! Why couldn't you have waited until the sun came up?" Draco pushed a hand through his hair, trying to gain some of his composure. "You had me worried sick! I thought you had left for good!"

"I already promised you I'd stay!" Hermione retorted.

"And then you left!" 

Hermione stared up at him, her vision blurry with tears once again. However, even through the tears, she could see him towering over her, his jaw clenched in anger and his chest heaving up and down, frustration taking over. 

She hated that she still fucking loved him even like this. She hated that she still found him absolutely stunning and godly when he was like this. Something was wrong with her. How could she still find this man so alluring even when he was so angry?

It was his fault. It was Draco's fault for being so goddamn attractive. Even when he was scolding her relentlessly, his beauty always distracted her. She loved him so much, that she didn't mind him yelling at her, because at least they were talking. 

"I'm going to bed." She whispered, heading up the stairs. 

"Hermione Jean Granger, do not walk away from me when I'm talking to you." Draco followed closely behind her, his voice firm and stern. 

"I don't want to talk anymore." She stated, her voice breaking as she turned around to face him, half way up the staircase. 

"Is everything I do not enough?" Draco's voice was low and raspy. He was tired, mentally and physically. "Am I not doing something right?" 

"Are you faking all of this?" Hermione snapped. "Everything you've done, was it all a façade?" 

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Are you scared I'll tell the Ministry, Draco?" 

"I don't give a fuck about the Ministry! I care about you!"

Draco felt as though he had been stabbed in every vital organ. How dare she think all of this was fake? 

"I've done things to you that I've never done with everyone else. I've told you things that I have never told anyone else! And you have the audacity to ask if this is all a cover up?!" He bellowed. 

"Is it?" Hermione yelled. 

Draco looked at her for a moment. This woman was the Persephone to his Hades, and it scared him. Because that meant she was just as, if not, more powerful than he was. But unlike Hades, Draco couldn't live without her while she left for spring, especially if he needed her warmth more than the outside did. 

The frustration, anger, and annoyance overwhelmed him. His eyes glazed over with tears that he refused to let fall. 

"I thought you were gone forever, I thought you had walked away from everything, because I failed, because I destroyed the only thing that ever mattered to me! You are the only thing that has ever mattered to me! Why would I ever fake being in love with you?! Why would I ever fake something that hurts too fucking much to feel?!" 

Draco closed his eyes, blinking back the tears. He was angry. He hated fighting with Hermione, but even so, at least he knew he could still feel something, even if it was negative. At least he knew he was alive and could feel. 

Hermione watched him as she choked silently on a sob in her throat. It hurt. Everything hurt.

"I do everything for you." He breathed, calming himself down. "Why the hell would I fake all of this?"

"Ginny–"

"Ginny?!" He exclaimed. "You believe fucking Weasley over me?!" 

"No, but–"

"She doesn't see what goes on behind that front door. She doesn't see me kiss you, she doesn't see me fuck you, she doesn't see me tell you stories of my fucking childhood! She doesn't see the way I look at you, Hermione! That bitch doesn't see me check in on you in the library and make sure you're breathing, because if you ever stopped, I'd make sure everyone else did too!" His chest heaved. He was trying to breathe, but it hurt too much. 

"Draco, I'm sorry." Hermione breathed. "We're both exhausted."

"You caused this." He breathed, his voice shattering. "You could've waited." 

He walked down the stairs and grabbed his notebook from the sofa and approached Hermione once again on the staircase. 

"Draco, what are you–"

"Here." He shoved it into her arms. "Read it. Maybe then you'll fucking believe the words that come out of my fucking mouth." 

Hermione looked down at the notebook, then back up at Draco. This was the one thing he was adamant on keeping secret. She had only seen two pages of it, but reading the entire things seemed sinful. 

"Read every letter I've thought about sending to my mother, admire every fucking picture I drew of you and I, and for fucks sake, maybe then you'll take me seriously." He said. 

"Draco, please I can't." She whispered. 

"Is it because I said you could? Because god forbid, Hermione Granger only does shit she isn't supposed to." He spat. 

It was quiet between them. The air that they were sharing was thick with tension. 

Hermione held the book to her chest. This was one of Draco's most prized possessions, and he trusted her with it. 

"Now, I suggest you bring that notebook with you in the library, because I'm locking your arse in there until I wake up." Draco said sternly. 

"What?" Hermione's eyebrows mended together in a look of shock and confusion. 

"If you thought the last enchantments were strict, you haven't seen anything yet, Granger." He growled. 

"I am not a child!" Hermione exclaimed. 

"When you behave like one, you'll get treated like one!" Draco bellowed. 

Hermione felt the tears run down her cheeks. "Fine." She choked. 

"Give me my wand." Draco demanded, holding his hand out. 

Hermione wordlessly reached into her cloak pocket, and handed him his wand.

"Goodnight." Draco said, clenching his jaw. 

"Fuck you." Hermione replied, wiping the tears away from her face as she fled up the stairs and into the library.


End file.
